


Killing Me Softly

by days_of_storm



Series: The Words Not Spoken [1]
Category: My Engineer (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, King doesn't like sharp things but Ram kinda does, Longing, Lots of Touching, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Ram-centric, Slow Burn, UST, Uncertainty, fear of dogs, fear of needles, internal stuggle, slight self-destructive tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days_of_storm/pseuds/days_of_storm
Summary: Recently, Ram has noticed a change in the relationship between his best friend and Bohn. Nevertheless, it's not the relationship that has changed, but Ram's perception of it.
Relationships: King/Ram (My Engineer)
Series: The Words Not Spoken [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863481
Comments: 70
Kudos: 226





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mazarin221b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazarin221b/gifts).



> So, this is going to be a collection of ficlets - all of them are basically going to be about these two idiots pining for each other because that's all they do. 
> 
> Please note that there's no real plot tying these together, except for some secret mutual longing betweet Ram and King. Most of these are from Ram's POV, but I will write some from King's, too (likely the reverse POV for some bits, too, because UST is always better when both are affected and you get both POVs - like soliloquis in theatre - the audience knows much more than the characters).
> 
> King's POV series is The Sound of Silence. The chapters begin to correspond from chapter 4 of The Sound of Silence on, which links to the first chapter of Killing me Softly and so on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say hi on tumblr @ days-of-storm.tumblr.com :-)

He knew that something had changed when he grew jealous of Duen. He had been sure that Bohn was merely interested in trying to get Duen to go out with him because Duen was shy and innocent and didn’t know how to say no to him. But then he did, repeatedly, and that only made Bohn try harder and Ram’s protective instinct went through the roof. He’d kept his eyes on his best friend whenever he could, but recently he hadn’t been able to pay as much attention, because somehow King had started being everywhere, all the time, sending him lines and helping him and his friends with their exam prep. 

But when he wasn’t distracted by that, he tried to keep an eye on Duen, who seemed a little less reserved recently while Bohn was insufferable – until, one day, he realised that it wasn’t all that bad. He noticed how Bohn teased Duen, but never made him feel truly uncomfortable. Duen was very clear about what he found acceptable, and whenever he was in doubt, he’d ask his friends for advice. And Bohn lived right on that edge, tugging and pushing a little, trying to get him to budge, but never doing anything rash or unwelcome, at least not as far as Ram could tell. 

But, more importantly, Bohn sometimes looked at Duen when his friend wasn’t paying attention. And he looked at him like he was a particular beautiful sunset. A delectable piece of cake, waiting to be eaten but untouchable behind a shop window. An adorable puppy that had just come through the door that had to be handled with care and love. 

Bohn sometimes reached out, touching the edge of Duen’s shirt-sleeve or his coat or his hair, softly enough for Duen not to realise. Sometimes he stood behind him, so close that Duen had to feel his breath against his neck, but Duen never turned around and Bohn never quite closed the final distance to kiss his neck.

Ram rubbed his own neck, feeling uncomfortably touched by what he was witnessing. Just then, Duen said something funny as Bohn stood next to him, and Bohn laughed and leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, which would have seemed like a mere chin bump to anyone who didn’t pay attention. 

Ram frowned and looked away, unable to reconcile his dislike for Bohn with his gentle courting. 

“What's wrong?” King came up to him and sat down on the table, his feet on the bench, just in case the dog would show up again. Ram tried hard not to smile at the memory of King jumping up on the table as if the ground had suddenly turned into lava. He looked at his legs and feet on the bench next to him and suppressed the urge to reach out and touch his calf. 

Then he shook his head. 

“Fine, don’t tell me then. Why are you still here?”

Ram looked at Bohn and Duen who giggled together and Bohn touched his hip, just fleetingly, but enough to make something in his belly tingle. Ram sat up straighter, not understanding why he was reacting like this and why it was suddenly worse, watching Bohn's gentle touches while King sat next to him.

“You are still worried,” King surmised and put his hand on Ram’s shoulder, petting him a little. “I promise he’s not the person you think he is. He’s fooled around with girls, yes, but look at him. He’s serious about Duen. He wouldn’t just play with his feelings.”

Ram moved his shoulder a little and King pulled his hand back. There was no way he could ask him to put it back, was there? Ram sighed. 

“You don’t believe me,” King leaned forward, his hair falling into his eyes. Ram’s fingers itched to push it away so he could see all of his face. “How can I change your mind?”

He wanted to laugh, because there was nothing that King could do about that particular problem, and he was just starting to realise that King was right about Bohn, too, but it wasn’t something King could help him with either. King could help him with an entirely different problem, but even thinking about wanting King to gently kiss his shoulder, pretending to just bump into him, drove a small spark down his spine which left him a little light headed. He wondered if he'd eaten something wrong. His stomach definitely didn't feel right. 

“Fine, I’ll not change your mind then. It’s nice that you are so concerned about him. I think Bohn knows that you are just trying to protect Duen.”

King pushed his hair out of his face only for it to fall back down immediately. Ram couldn’t help but smile at that. 

“A’Ning, what are you smiling about suddenly? Do I have something on my face?”

Ram shook his head and schooled his expression. “No.”

King dropped down from the table, coming to sit next to him, raising his arms in a victory pose. “Ning spoke to me! I can’t believe it! A single word, oh, how the fortunes have smiled upon me!”

Ram had to turn his face away. He couldn’t stand seeing King so happy and open and unconcerned. It made him feel insufficient. 

King stayed next to him, quietly watching Bohn and Duen with him. They eventually spotted them and came over to chat. King talked excitedly about a class that Bohn was clearly not very excited about, but Duen listened with interest, being the only medical student at the table and finding the tales from the engineering department fascinating. 

Repeatedly, King would take Ram’s wrist or put his hand on his shoulder, and every time, Ram wished he would keep his hand there, just holding on. It seemed very important to be that close to him as often and for as long as possible, and it made him question his sanity a little. But when he leaned down to pick up a leaf that had sailed past his head and dropped onto the lawn right next to his feet, he saw, under the table, that Duen and Bohn were holding hands and that Bohn’s thumb was gently stroking the back of Duen’s hand. 

When he rose again, his face undoubtedly flushed with emotion, King immediately plucked the leaf from his fingers, while one hand remained on his wrist for as long as it took him to study it. The absent-minded touch was all Ram could bear. As soon as King had handed the leaf back and released his wrist, he turned to Duen and announced that he would be going home. 

He ignored King’s quips about him having said more words to Duen in that moment than to him the entire week, but he definitely felt his hand on his back as he rose. 

The entire ride home he imagined that someone else had watched them just then and seen King look at him like Bohn looked at Duen, and been jealous of that single touch that conveyed more than words could. It was a lovely fantasy, but he had seen King touch his friend’s backs all the time, so why in the world would this particular gesture have been anything else. Frustrated with himself and Bohn, because he was so annoyingly gentle with Duen, he went to the boxing ring, knowing that every touch and punch he received there served a particular purpose that left absolutely no room for doubt or wishful thinking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ram's POV - the bus ride after the rain  
> (I watched this scene three times and by now this below is my headcanon and nobody can convince me otherwise. Ram has THOUGHTS)
> 
> This chapter corresponds to chapter 5 of The Sound of Silence.

He knew trying to hide behind his music wouldn’t work, but he tried nevertheless. He had hoped the fast paced rock music would shut up his thoughts, but it didn’t. At all. He tried desperately not to think about King, soaking wet, one large drop running from his hair down his cheek and along his jawline before dripping onto his wrist.

And then the moment when he had covered him with the umbrella, knowing that he shouldn’t, for his heart’s sake, but unable to leave him standing in the rain after he had written up his homework in beautiful handwriting. 

The way King had stumbled along, as if his feet had just stopped working, worried him a little. He had already dragged him all the way across campus once, and he had been fine, with the exception of the minor panic attack when they had walked past a barking dog. But this time he had seemed unable to coordinate his body parts and Ram wasn’t sure what that meant. 

When he had grabbed him again to pull him onto the bus, he had been both glad and disappointed to notice that he had somewhat regained his balance. And then he had forgotten to let go of King’s arm and was mortified when he told him to let him go. 

King, apparently, didn’t think anything of it and, after spotting the tattoo on his forearm, asked him about that. And whether it had hurt getting it. 

Ram was so surprised by his enquiry, immediately imagining King getting a winged tattoo on his back, just between his shoulder blades, that he couldn’t stop himself from asking whether he would want to get a tattoo. King’s teasing confirmed that he should have kept his mouth shut, but once again, King didn’t seem to mind overly much that that was the extent of his verbal input and began telling him about his fear of sharp things.

Ram wondered if that included his own teeth against the skin of his neck and he stared out of the window, trying very hard to divert his thoughts. When that didn’t work and his face was growing too hot, he opened the bus window, letting the wind cool his face a little.

When King’s phone ran out of battery, Ram knew he couldn’t just sit there and listen to music, trying to forget that hateful, wonderful drop of rain that had been allowed to touch King’s face in the way his fingers itched to. So he had put one of his ear plugs into King’s left ear, hoping he would be okay with something so forward. 

King had immediately changed the song, of course he had. To a cheesy, romantic tune that had nothing to do with the rain, as King had claimed, and everything with two people falling in love. He had had to force himself to keep his hands still and not take back the ear bud. His initial urge to tease King about the choice of the music had died the second he had seen his happy expression. He clearly liked the song and didn’t have any second thoughts about it. 

And then he heard the girls in the backrow gossip about them and he wanted to sink down in his seat and hide, but there was no room, because King’s legs were in the way. So he sat there and endured the horrifying notion of going out in public with King, holding hands, being lovey-dovey, being teased by their friends, chatted up by men and women who either wanted in on it or felt that they shouldn’t be together. The fact that people flirted with him simply because he was only half-Thai, as if that made him better somehow, always made him feel angry. They had no interest at all in who he was and only cared about his lighter skin. As if he was the pretty one of the two, because he looked different. Hadn’t they looked at King? Beautiful, gentle, gorgeous King whose face looked like a piece of art when he was concentrating on something and whose smile lit up his whole world whenever Ram said a few words to him. The notion that his emotions would be on display, in public, in front of everyone, inviting commentary and criticism, frightened him more than he was willing to admit. 

But then King smiled and told him about the girls’ chatter and he seemed oddly happy about it and, for a split second, he felt that maybe it wouldn’t be so horrible. But then his anxiety took over and he prayed that they would stop talking about it. 

When King asked for his sunglasses, Ram couldn’t say no, because he was still busy trying to breathe evenly. King looked funny with his glasses, but also handsome, and he had to look away, feeling suddenly overwhelmed because everything in him screamed to take those damned glasses off him and kiss him. He knew he wouldn’t ever be able to wear them and not think of that moment. 

But once King started taking selfies, he couldn’t help but watch him pose, realising that he would have those photos on his phone to look at. He hoped King wouldn’t delete the ones he didn’t like. 

And then he took his arm. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t considerate. He used it like he would use a mannequin to pose with it, simply taking what he needed, what he wanted from him, and Ram was sure that the temperature on the bus had gone up considerably even with the open window. 

He was relieved when his stop came up, and he remembered, just in time, to shove a post-it into the closed umbrella before handing it to King. And then he fled the bus, because he was sure that if he’d stayed a second longer, he would have taken King’s hand and never let go again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ram's POV of the bike ride to King's condo.
> 
> This chapter corresponds to chapter 6 of The Sound of Silence.

Saving King from his arch nemesis - the adorable but underfed dog of the janitor which roamed the campus - was slowly becoming a hobby. He knew that King was seriously afraid of it, but he couldn’t help but be amused whenever he fled onto the table or hid behind him when a dog showed up. 

He didn’t exactly enjoy seeing him afraid, but the memories of those instances when he used his body as a shield, grabbing his hips or shoulders, his fingers digging into his skin, gasping behind him, really did sustain him when King wasn’t there to look at. 

This time, King seemed more afraid than usual, and when he offered Ram a whole selection of his notes on the classes Ram was currently taking, he did not think about it twice. He had never offered anything in return for being saved from the dragon, umm, dog, but this time, because the dog was ready to jump onto the table, he seemed ready to sell the clothes off his body. 

Not that he would have minded. 

When he finally calmed the dog down and made sure that it wouldn’t disturb King, he made it clear that he wouldn’t wait until the next day. Even as he was silently challenging him, his mind and heart were racing. If he was honest with himself, he had been waiting for the opportunity to follow King home. To see how he lived. What he was like, in private. He seemed so organised and considerate that he yearned to see how he spent his time when he was alone. 

He had not expected King to agree to take him home so quickly, and when he indicated that he would want to take the bike, he was honestly surprised that King was alright not only with going by bike, but actually riding it. Ram knew he wouldn’t have it in him to be the one in the front, not when he would spend the entire way hoping that King would wrap his arms around him. And then, if, by some miracle, he would have done that, he would have doubtlessly crashed the bike. 

Well, it wouldn’t be the worst way to die, would it?

At first, King was a little wobbly on the bike, and, to be fair, Ram tried to sit as far back as he could, making it harder for King to find the right balance, but when King finally clasped his hand and planted it on his hip, and repeated the action with his other, he knew he could relax a little. The ride went much more smoothly after, even with the interruption of the jumped chain and the frankly embarrassing running commentary by the girls in the park. 

When King teased them by throwing his arm around Ram and pulling him a little closer, he was fairly sure that he must have gotten motion sick with a slight delay, because his heart was suddenly beating hard against his ribs and he felt light headed and a little nauseous. Strangely, he felt a little better once they were going again and he put his hands on King's waist without being prompted. King chatted almost all the way, even though it was quite a distance they covered. 

Once they reached the street where King lived, his hands had gotten used to the shape of King’s waist, to the feel of his t-shirt under his palms and the heat of his body underneath. He had breathed in King’s aftershave which had made the ride along the polluted road better by a mile and now it lingered in his nose. 

He couldn’t keep his thumbs from stroking his back just as they arrived and King suddenly stopped talking in midsentence, and looked at him strangely after they had both gotten off the bike. 

Ram didn’t know whether he should apologise, but apologising would mean acknowledging it, and as long as he didn’t say anything and as long as King didn’t ask, he could pretend it never happened. Nevertheless, as they took the stairs up to King’s condo, he couldn’t stop looking at his back and hips, missing the contact between them as if a part of his own body had suddenly been cut away and he knew he would never get it back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't in reference to any particular scene, except for that time Ruj spied on King - just a random evening in the middle of things.
> 
> The chapter corresponds to chapter 8 of The Sound of Silence.

Ram was trying hard to concentrate. He had been going over this exercise what felt like half a dozen times, and every time he had felt that he had understood it, he made a mistake somewhere. What made it worse was that everyone in the group made mistakes, too, but none of them could figure out where they went wrong.

And, worst of all, he lost his train of thought again and again, thinking of King. King who had started to hang out with his friends, because Bohn came as a sort of package deal. He didn’t mind much, really. But he minded that he always ended up next to King, whenever they sat down together as a group. He minded that he texted him all the time, making him smile even at times when he really didn’t want to smile. Even remembering his voice had started to be a distraction, because something in him shifted and he wanted to look at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, to show him that he wouldn’t deign his question or comment with an answer. It had happened quite a lot recently that he had looked up at nothing, feeling quite silly for it. 

And then Ruj had shown up on campus to spy on King. His little brother had read all the Sherlock Holmes stories before his twelfth birthday and now, at 15, he was trying to deduce everything, including his brother. 

And he wanted to tell him about King. He wanted to share with his little brother that there was someone in his life who made him smile and who made his heart beat faster and who helped him with his homework out of the goodness of his heart. And maybe, just maybe, because it meant he’d get to spend time with him. But that was where his bravery stopped. He couldn’t tell his brother about any of it, because he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. He wasn’t sure whether King was just fascinated by him because he refused to talk to him, or because King was Bohn’s best friend, and therefore his wingman, just as he was Duen’s. He didn’t know why he was everywhere all the time, and if he wasn’t there in person, or in his phone, he was on his mind. 

King had lied to him about the reason Ruj was on campus, and that had been an unexpected kindness. King was so ready to give people the benefit of the doubt and to just take a situation and make the best of it. He was the exact opposite of Ram, who overthought everything and never quite trusted that things would be alright. He had learned the hard way that they rarely were, in the end. 

“Hey, Ram, are you still with us?”

He wasn’t sure how often Phu had said his name, but it sounded like it had been more than once. 

“Sorry, yes. I still don’t understand.”

“We’re off home. Let’s sleep a night over this and get back together tomorrow, hmm?”

Ram nodded and cracked his neck and knuckles before face-planting on his notes. “I don’t understand,” he said, loudly, partly frustrated with the work, but mostly frustrated with his inability to concentrate on it and the personified reason for that. 

“A’Ning. Don’t sleep out here. The dog will eat you.”

Ram closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. 

“Hey,” King put his hand on his back and rubbed. Ram felt himself respond immediately. It was as if King’s presence had flicked a switch and he was suddenly wide awake. Adrenaline. He felt the same before entering a fight. But in this, he had no outlet other than to stare at King and hope he didn’t notice. 

“Hey, come on. Are you alright?”

He planted himself next to Ram and pulled the sheets out from under his arms. Ram cocked his head so he could stare at him and King stopped for a second, as if assessing the danger of the situation, but then his face broke out into that contagious smile of his and Ram had to hide his face again so that King wouldn’t see. 

“I know you’re smiling,” King said and elbowed him. “Come on, I’ll explain.”

Ram sat up, pretending to be tired so he could use his arm to support his head. That way, he could look at King and the sheet without having to move. 

He only realised after King had explained half of the exercise that he hadn’t paid any attention to what he had said. He had been happily listening to his voice, slowly feeling his frustration slip away. Now it was back in full force. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and King immediately stopped talking. “I’m very tired.”

Ram was amazed that he didn’t say anything about him speaking to him. Instead, he looked at him for a long moment, his eyes flicking back and forth across his face. “Are you alright?” He pressed his wrist to his forehead and then his cheeks, cocking his head in this inquisitive way he had. “You’re hot.”

Ram wasn’t entirely sure why it happened, but he couldn’t suppress a snort and smile at that. 

King licked his lips and grinned, but then his expression became worried once again. “Okay, something is definitely up. Do you want me to take you home?”

 _I do. So much,_ Ram thought, but he schooled his expression. “I’m fine,” he nodded and leaned back, signalling King to take his hand away. 

“Let me at least get you to a taxi?”

Ram shook his head. 

“Don’t take your bike if you don’t feel well.”

Ram sighed and shook his head again. Then he began packing up his notes. Before he zipped his backpack closed, he pulled out his phone. 

_“Thank you for trying to explain this to me.”_

King already had his phone in his hand when he pressed send. 

“Do you want me to explain it to you again tomorrow?”

Ram wanted to hug him. And then not let go for a very long time. He nodded. 

“Absolutely. After classes? Right here?”

Ram nodded and he felt the corners of his mouth quirk. If looking at King would make him smile automatically, he would have a problem. 

“Okay,” King said, but then neither of them moved and they held each other’s gaze for long enough to make looking away seem like a dangerous thing to do. It was a strange noise coming from the hedges beyond the lantern lights that made King jump and look around wildly, just in case an animal with sharp teeth might attack. 

Ram pressed both hands across his face to hide his grin. He knew he couldn’t stay a moment longer before doing something incredibly stupid, so he rose and picked up his backpack. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone, with wild animals that might want to eat me?”

Ram stopped mid-step. Right then, nothing and nobody was more dangerous than himself, he thought. There would be no wild animal hiding in the darkness to bite King. There was only a boy in the light, trying very hard not to scare him away. He nodded at King one last time before he walked away quickly. 

He heard his phone ping several times as he rode his bike home as fast as he could. Once he was home, he took a long shower, had dinner with his mother and brother while his father was away on business, fed the three giants and then, only then, did he pick up his phone again. 

_”I’m texting you just in case something happens.”_

_“I’m on a bus now. No animal bit me. No thanks to you.”_

_“What was that noise, though? I have never heard it on campus. Maybe a new species? Will they name it after me?”_

Ram pulled the blanket over his head and chuckled. “Idiot.”

_”I hope you’re okay. Don’t get sick. Because if you are sick, then I caught it today, too, hahaha.”_

“I wish,” Ram whispered into the quiet of his room. 

_”Please let me know when you get home.”_

_“I’m worried. Please write something.”_

_“Ram! I’m not joking. You were feverish and you took your bike home.”_

_“Ram. Ram. Ram. Ram. Ram.”_

He had never used his name that often. He really seemed to have been worried. Ram sighed deeply. 

_”Fine. I will assume you crashed and now you are alone in a hospital bed and I won’t sleep all night because I’m worried.”_

“Why would you do that,” Ram whispered at his phone. “Why do you care?”

_”Okay, so maybe I’m overreacting and you just got home alright and are now sleeping.”_

_“As you should, sick boy.”_

_“I hope you read this and feel bad tomorrow.”_

_“Not tonight, though. Don’t feel bad tonight. Feel better.”_

_“Good night.”_

Ram’s fingers hovered above his keyboard. He knew that if he wrote now, King would answer and then he’d stay awake and wait for his messages to come in. But it would be cruel not to answer. He seemed truly worried. 

He imagined how he would react if their situations were reversed and he knew he’d call all of King’s friends to go and check on him. He was glad that King hadn’t sent anyone around, though. There would be nothing to tell them. 

_“I’m sorry. Forgot to look at my phone. I’m fine. Good night.”_ He stared at the message for quite some time before he deleted it again. Then he typed it again. What if King didn’t believe him? He checked his phone constantly. King would have noticed that by now. He had watched him read his texts as he had come closer that other evening, taking photos of their surroundings to leave him clues. He knew his phone was in his hand as soon as it pinged. 

He deleted the message again. 

_”Sorry. Was busy and just saw your messages. I’m fine.”_

He pressed send before he could change his mind, but then realised he hadn’t wished King a good night back. 

The little tick on the left told him that King had read his message and he realised that he would have seen him read his own and known he’d have been okay. 

_”I'm glad you are okay.”_

He closed his eyes and pretended that the message didn’t make his heart ache a little. 

_”Good night, P'King”_ he typed. _”I'm glad you weren't eaten by a wild animal. Thank you for worrying about me. I appreciate it. I don’t think you know how much it means that you wanted to make sure that I got home safe and that I’m not dead in a ditch or alone in a hospital bed. Knowing that makes everything better. Everything.”_

He sighed and deleted the message again, his heart in his throat with fear that the might accidentally press send before he could delete everything, retyping only the good-night message. When he sent that off, he felt terrible, because King would have seen the little notification that told him that Ram was typing only to end up with a three-word message. 

Then he put his phone on silent and placed it screen-down on his night stand. He was just about to fall asleep when he remembered that King had offered to help him again tomorrow. And, despite everything, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware the hotness-pun doesn't work in Thai - I guess the closest we'd get there is to say that Ram is both hot and anxious? Which would work, too, but it wouldn't be funny.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for adding more chapters in the middle of things. I realised I missed a chunk of character development when writing King's POV, so I had to come back and write more Ram. So, what I posted as chapter 5 is now moving steadily backwards until King takes Ram and his dogs to his condo - probably around 4ish extra chapters, so chapter 5 should end up being chapter 9 in the end. 
> 
> I missed writing him.
> 
> This chapter corresponds to chapter 9 of The Sound of Silence.
> 
> edit: apologies for accidentally posting everything in italics XD it's fixed now!

_“I need to say thank you. Could you ask Bohn what kind of coffee King prefers?”_

Ram chewed on his lip, staring at the menu board of the café. Just getting any coffee wouldn’t be good enough.

_“Please don’t tell Bohn it was me asking. I don’t want any trouble. Just say someone who owes King a favour is asking.”_

Duen texted him back a moment later. _“Bohn says iced cold brew, black. Why do you owe him a favour?”_

Ram sighed and ordered the coffee. As he made his way to the table where he would meet King, he texted Duen back. _“He’s tutoring me.”_

_“Ahh, make it a large coffee, then. Hahaha.”_

Ram smiled at the coffee in his hand. He had gotten the largest cup the shop served.

When he saw King sitting at the table already, his heart contracted. He had woken up several times during the night, feeling increasingly horrible about not reading his texts last night. He had read and reread King’s messages and he could tell that he had been truly worried and now, with a little emotional distance to yesterday’s meeting, he realised that King had only tried to help him and that he had, once again, been so preoccupied with his infatuation that he had simply frozen. It was unfair to King, who had been so attentive and helpful from the beginning.

He carefully put down the coffee in front of King, who looked up, his face immediately brightening. “How are you feeling?” he asked and Ram felt even worse.

“Is this your way of saying thank you?” King picked up the coffee and took a sip. His eyes closed with obvious pleasure for a moment and Ram was ever so grateful to Duen for passing on his question to Bohn.

“You’re welcome,” King grinned and then patted the seat next to him. Ram sat down automatically, not quite knowing how to apologise.

“I’ll need your exercise sheets,” King cocked his head and Ram felt a blush creep up his neck. He fumbled for the sheets in his backpack and then handed them to King, avoiding his eyes.

“Okay,” King sighed as he looked at the exercise. “Promise you tell me as soon as you don’t follow anymore? Because if you don’t say anything, I’m not going to know when you lose track, okay?”

Ram had tried to recall this morning what King had explained to him, but he hadn’t gotten far. He couldn’t let himself be distracted today. King was already giving him more of his time than he was worth it and he had wasted so much of it already. Today, he would focus. He inhaled deeply. “Okay.”

He was surprised when King gently squeezed his wrist, and just a tad disappointed that King didn’t comment on the single word he had spoken. He couldn’t trust himself to speak a lot when he was around King, and while King knew by now that he only ever really talked to a handful of people, he found it harder than usual to formulate sentences in which he didn’t accidentally give away how he felt.

Thankfully, King began going through the exercise, nodding happily when he found that Ram had answered something correctly. After each section, he looked at Ram, waiting for him to nod his confirmation that he had understood. And while it was distracting to meet King’s eyes every two minutes, it also helped him focus. King looked very serious, and he knew that he truly wanted him to understand. King wasn’t the best student of his year by accident. He loved the subject and he worked hard, and he wanted to share his passion for it with others, just as he did with his love for plants.

Oh. King had explained something and he hadn’t listened. Again.

When King looked at him, Ram wasn’t sure how to signal King to repeat his explanation, so he shook his head and pursed his lips like he had seen King do when he didn’t understand something. Thankfully, he seemed to understand him perfectly and went back over the last points.

They made surprising progress and after a while he saw the patterns King was always going on about and he could answer more questions without additional explanation, and soon he filled in all the answers without needing King’s help. It was nice to have his confirmation after each answer, though. To know that he had gotten it right felt surprisingly good.

Once he was done, he wanted to stay and see if King would suggest going somewhere, but King just finished his coffee and sighed, but he didn’t say anything.

So Ram pulled out his phone and texted him.

_“Thank you. I have a test tomorrow. Now I feel more prepared than I thought I was.”_

“Good.” King squeezed his arm, a little harder this time, and Ram couldn’t help but smile when he found King smiling kindly at him.

He waited until King had pulled back his hand, not wanting to break the contact himself, before he got up and put his papers away. Then he walked to the bus stop as quickly as he could. He’d put in an extra hour of boxing today to get rid of the pent up tension that had built up in anxious anticipation of tomorrow’s exam and by sitting so close to King again.

He slept fitfully that night and woke up before his usual time. He went over the exercise again and then took his bike to uni. He had a couple of classes before the exam, but he knew he was never going to be better prepared than he already was. When Phu and the others met with him in the half hour before the exam to go over their recent notes again, Ram felt, for the first time since starting university, that he was more confident than Phu. But when it was time to go, he began looking for his lucky pencil and felt his confidence seep away when he didn’t find it.

He went through his backpack, checked his pockets, and tried his backpack again, growing ever more nervous.

“Ai’Ning. Why are you not going to your test?” a familiar voice said from behind him and while he was glad to see him, he wasn’t sure he could handle his quickened heartbeat on top of everything else right then.

He pulled out his phone and texted King as he came to stand on the other side of the table.

_“I lost my pencil.”_

King frowned. “Why don’t you borrow one from a friend then?” he suggested. “You’re going to be late!”

How to explain to King that he had this silly superstition that he would do badly in the test without his lucky pencil? He texted again.

_“It’s not the same.”_

King smirked and leaned closer. “Why, because your pencil is pink and cute?” he teased.

What, like you? Ram thought, trying not to roll his eyes at his own stupid joke.

He distracted himself by writing again. _“My name was on that pencil. My mum wrote it for me.”_

King frowned at the text, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. Ram looked at his hands when King turned away from him. Maybe it was better if King left him to deal with his immature issues by himself.

Then, suddenly, a pencil was pushed into his line of vision. “Here, use mine,” King said and Ram saw that he had apparently shaved off a bit of the paint at the end of his own pencil and written “Ning” onto the wood with his pen. It was such an unexpected kindness that he didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t possibly take the pen. He’d never get over it.

_“The one my mum gave me always brings me luck.”_

He felt bad for writing it, but he couldn’t help himself. Instead of being offended, King immediately reacted to the text.

“Oh, okay, I forgot!” King took the pencil between his hands as he would an incense stick during prayer. “Here you go, all done.” Then he closed his eyes, and began to murmur what sounded like an incantation, moving the pencil up and down in front of his face, though his eyes were closed. “This is my spell. Take it!” Then he inhaled sharply and blew on the pencil as if it was a birthday cake filled with burning candles.

Ram was sure he had never seen anything so adorable in his entire life. He could only stare at him, feeling dangerously close to pronouncing his love for him right there and then.

When King held out the pencil, he couldn’t move a finger.

“I used this spell to get all As in all of my subjects,” King explained, and Ram didn’t believe a word he was saying, and that made it all so much better and worse at the same time.

“Now take it, quickly!” He held it even closer to him and Ram finally snapped out of it and took it from him.

“Now go! Quick!” King said, sounding a whole lot more authoritative than Ram had believed he could. He felt himself blush to the roots of his hair and walked away as quickly as he could before King could notice.

He just made it in time to lock away his backpack and sit down before the classroom door was closed. Just as he allowed himself to breathe again, Phu turned around to him to tell him that he had forgotten to return Ram’s pencil to him after borrowing it earlier. Ram took the familiar pencil back and placed it next to King’s. Only after he had taken his exam sheets and passed the rest of the stack on to the student behind him, he allowed himself to consider making a choice.

Ram looked at both pencils – the one his mother had given him on the day he had started university, and which had managed to get him through most tests, even if he had never gotten particularly good grades, and then King’s pencil, given spontaneously and with so much kindness that it hurt a little to even think about it. But King had also helped him understand the subject matter, so maybe using his pencil would just be an extension of that. He lovingly put down his mother’s pencil and began reading through the exam questions.

He felt elated when he realised that most of them were immediately related to the exercise King had explained to him yesterday afternoon. He managed to finish answering all the questions on time and, for the first time since taking up his studies, he felt that he had really understood what he had been writing about.

As soon as he was out of the room, he texted King, asking him to meet him at the grill. He hoped he would come, considering how much time he had already spent away from his friends to tutor him. But saying thank you by buying him dinner was the least he could do – and the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t involve crowding him against a wall and kissing him.

Ram swallowed hard and tried to push that particular thought to the very far back of his mind. He went to feed the dog on his way to the grill, but, being a little early still, he busied himself reading the entire menu in order to avoid the obvious advances of the waitress. The fact that he had come alone seemed to encourage her and he was incredibly relieved when King showed up and sat down, looking at him with wide eyes.

Ram pushed the order pad towards him and watched as King put down his dishes. The waitress glared at him and Ram felt like apologising, but he could tell that King was amused by the situation. There was a bit of an awkward silence between them until the food arrived. He wasn’t sure, but King seemed different than he had been before the exam, as if something had diminished his constant good mood a little. He hoped this wasn’t about last night.

“This meal is to thank me, right?” King asked once the food had arrived, and finally he smiled at him. Ram suddenly found it easier to breathe and pulled out the pencil from his backpack, holding it out to King.

“I am right! How was your exam then?” King was excited and Ram couldn’t help but smile, feeling grateful that King had come to meet him.

He nodded his answer and King smiled widely. “Keep it. It can be your lucky pencil. You lost yours, right?”

Ram knew he should tell him that Phu had had his pencil, but he didn’t have the heart. If he told him, King would take the offered pencil back, and the idea of keeping it made Ram inexplicably happy. He held it in his hand for a moment before he put it back into his backpack and began eating.

But King didn’t eat. Instead, he held up his phone for Ram to look at. “This is your family, right?”

A Christmas photo? Why had King looked at the photo they had sent his grandparents for Christmas last year. He remembered the day fondly, though, and he was secretly pleased that King was interested.

“Let me guess. This must be your father and this your brother.”

That’s not a guess, Ram thought amused. You’ve met Ruj.

“And this foreign lady must be your mother.” King grinned, looking proud, and Ram copied his little brother’s “no shit-Sherlock” look he gave people when they said something obvious. King didn’t seem to notice or care, so maybe he had to work on that look.

“I’m that good,” King surmised, but his grin disappeared as soon as he looked back onto the screen of his phone. When he held it up again, and his screen showed his childhood friend Pin Pin’s profile, Ram couldn't think of a reason why King would bring her up.

Oh. Oh no.

“Who is that?” King asked, his voice sounding a little off. “Your girlfriend?”

Was King interested in her? Had he found her as he had been scrolling through his pictures, trying to find a family photo and was now asking about her because he found her cute?

Ram shook his head adamantly. The mere idea that she was his girlfriend amused him. But he did not want to talk about Pin Pin, not when King might be interested in her. If King asked her out, it would mean that he would see them together constantly and it would break his heart. He began eating again, feeling scared by how much the thought bothered him.

“If she’s not your girlfriend, what are you so shy about?” King asked and Ram had never wanted King to stop talking before. He wanted it now.

He picked up his phone and began to write. _“She’s my neighbour.”_

He wasn’t sure what else to write, because he didn’t want to say anything bad about his oldest friend.

“Neighbour? But she liked every photo you posted. Sure, she’s your neighbour … girlfriend? She’s your girlfriend, right?”

Just let it rest, please! Ram continued eating, hoping King would understand that he did not want to talk about her. Only after finishing his soup, he realised what King had said. He knew Pin Pin had liked all of his pictures, because he had looked at all of them. Not just the albums, but the pictures themselves, one by one. He wanted to ask why, but couldn’t formulate the question.

King quietly ate his food.

When they had finished, Ram hoped that King would start talking again. Maybe it was just the grill, with other people sitting close by and a waitress still shooting him dirty looks that kept him from talking. But if he took him back to the bus stop and possibly made sure that he’d be able to get safely past the dog, King would talk to him again.

Outside, he finally dared to reach out and take hold of King’s arm.

King looked down on his hand and then at him. “Do you want to walk me to the bus stop?” Ram was happy that he didn’t even have to explain his plan and King understood anyway.

“Ah, you’re worried that the dog will still be there, right?” Ram nodded, but King suddenly pulled his hand back sharply, surprising him.

“Don’t worry,” King went on, taking half a step away from him. “I have to buy something first and then I’ll take a different route.”

Ram was disappointed, he couldn’t deny that, but King had shown up for dinner, which was a kindness, and even if he was interested in his childhood friend, he hadn’t asked again after Ram had not responded anymore. Maybe it had sufficed to make him lose interest a little. If Ram didn’t share anything about her, maybe King wouldn’t attempt to get to know her. He did not judge King to be someone who just went for someone because they were pretty.

“It’s very safe!” King explained when Ram didn’t respond in any way and he nodded. Of course it was safe, even with the dog, but he wouldn’t try to convince King of that, because once he lost his fear, he wouldn’t try to hide behind him again, holding on tightly to his shoulders and clasping his shirt. He had to admit that he had hoped that the dog would be there this evening, but now he would have to deal with the fact that King would make his way home by himself. He watched him walk away, feeling a little heartbroken.

Just as he went to get his bike, he spotted a familiar figure across the street. It was his father who got into his car with a woman whom he couldn’t recognise from that distance. But one thing was certain, it wasn’t his mother.

He followed the car on his bike, feeling his thighs shake with the effort once the car pulled into a 24 hour hotel. What was his father doing here instead of being at work? And who was that woman? And why … here. It took him a moment to understand the implication, and he had to get off the bike and sit down for a while to calm himself down. He wanted to run in there and find out what his father was doing with that woman. He held on to the small hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a business meeting of sorts and that he only thought the worst because he didn’t know better.

But as he rode his bike home, he knew in his heart that his father was cheating on his mother and he felt his world crumble. He drove to his parents’ house, hoping against hope that his father would be there, at the dinner table.

His mother was so happy to see him, asking why he hadn’t called her so she could have prepared dinner for him, too. He wanted to tell her that he had had dinner with a wonderful, kind boy who had made him feel good about the test today, but all he could think of was the absence of his father.

“Where is dad?” he asked, his heart in his throat.

“He’s at work,” his mum explained, but Ram caught Ruj’s eye and he looked worried, somehow. Oh god, if what he thought was true he couldn’t ever tell Ruj. He would be destroyed.

And then his father walked in, a huge smile on his face and he flirted with his mother, more overtly that he usually would, and Ram’s stomach turned.

If it had been him, then he would have been fast, so maybe it wasn’t anything serious? Maybe he had just taken that woman to the hotel to drop her off? He was clearly very happy to be home and delighted when his mom gave him his old watch that she had gotten fixed for him.

“I’ll go and put away my stuff,” Ram excused himself, unable to watch him like this, and left the room. Instead of going to his own room, he went outside and sat in the backyard, feeling like someone had punched him repeatedly in the stomach.

When Pin Pin showed up and sat down next to him and he felt immediately better. But then he remembered King’s questions about her and his heart sank again.

“Do you have something on your mind?” she asked, but he shook his head. Pin Pin immediately saw through it.

“What is it?” She touched his forehead with her index finger, smiling. “You look much too serious. I’ve known you since we were little, don’t think I don’t know when you are stressed out. Just tell me!”

Ram sighed. She was right. She knew him best of all. But he did not want to tell her about his suspicion without having proof. And then there was his problem with King, too, but he couldn’t possibly talk to her about him. What if she became interested in him after he told her about how perfect he was? So he tried to keep things as open as possible.

“What if the person that you love the most betrays you?” He felt tears prick his eyes, but he wasn’t afraid to cry in front of her. “What would you do?”

“That’s a very hard question to answer,” she said, without asking for details. He was grateful for it. “I think that everyone has a good and a bad side, but I think that there must have been a reason for what they did.”

He nodded, even though he couldn’t think of a single reason why his father would do something so horrible to his family.

Pin Pin squeezed his shoulder and he looked at her again. She seemed very earnest. “But, if we still love them, we should focus on the good side.”

He wasn’t convinced that he could, and clearly, Pin Pin could tell. She squeezed his shoulder a little harder. “Don’t stress. Now, give me a smile.”

She had always done this, back in the day, when he had hurt himself playing or he had been lost in thought for too long and she tried to make him feel better. She pointed at the corners of her mouth as she smiled, and the felt himself smile back automatically.

“You look so cute when you smile,” she said and he appreciated that she had changed the topic. He wasn’t sure what to do with her advice, but it felt good, knowing he still had her to talk to, no matter what and that she would always do her best to cheer him up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds to chapter 10 of The Sound of Silence.
> 
> Watching this scene again, I am SO AMAZED by Perth's smizing ability. Honestly, even in the dinner scene referenced in the last chapter, Ram is GLOWING at King and he's just not getting it. But the cabin scene - jesus christ on a venus flytrap! As Ruj/Sherlock Holmes would say: You see, but you don't observe. 
> 
> Anyhow, here's more smitten Ram.

A week later, on the day of midterms, he woke up feeling utterly miserable. Any joy he had initially felt when he received the excellent test grade had been swept away with the continued uncertainty about his father. He tried to tell himself that, as long as he didn’t know for sure, he would go on pretending that everything was fine, but he was certain that it had been his father and his father’s car that he had seen. He had stayed with his parents, and everything had seemed normal. His dad got home around the same time every night and his mother didn’t behave in any way that suggested that something was off between them. And still, Ram couldn’t look his father in the eye. 

At the breakfast table, Ruj did not try to strike up a conversation, even though he clearly wanted to. Ram was grateful for that. He excused himself, saying he wanted to meet his friends before the exam, and then took the bus to uni with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Would he be able to concentrate? 

As he arrived, he walked past the usual table and he suddenly missed King with such an intensity that he had to sit down for a moment, his head in his hands, wishing desperately that he would just show up, calling him by his nickname, just so he could feel happy again for a moment. But King had exams as well and would be busy going over his notes, wouldn’t he? 

He hadn’t seen him since last week and he still wondered why their last meeting had been so awkward. At least he knew that King hadn’t gotten in touch with Pin Pin. She would have told him about it and there were no interactions between them on facebook either. But maybe King wanted to wait until the exam. He’d be free do go on dates and relax a little before classes began again. 

Alright, this wasn’t helping at all. He dug King’s pencil out of his bag and held it for a moment, remembering King’s spell. 

“What are you smiling about?” Phu sat down next to him and Ram realised that he had indeed been smiling at the memory. It was the first time he had smiled since talking to Pin Pin a week ago. 

“Trying to make myself feel confident about this exam.”

Phu chuckled. “Did you do this last time, too, when you came late and then got a perfect grade?” he patted his back and then pulled him up. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Ram found that, having been worried all week, he did not really have the energy to worry about the exam. The questions seemed easier than usual, which made him wonder whether the tests and homework had been designed to make them stress out, only to have a positive experience during the exam that actually mattered. Or maybe it was just that he had gone through every single sheet of King’s notes last week, when he found enough mental space for it. 

After handing in his exam, he felt the urge to tell King about it. But he knew that Duen, Ting, Phu and Tang wanted to go for pizza and since it had been a while since they had all gone out together, he couldn’t possibly suggest a change of plans. He would text him tonight to say thank you. 

Just as they had sat down and were flipping through the menus, Duen received a call from Bohn. Apparently, Bohn had a lot of food but no idea how to cook. Amateur. Ram rolled his eyes and continued looking at the culinary options the small restaurant offered. 

But then Tang asked where Bohn and his friends were, and when Duen answered that they were at King’s place, Ram had to school his expression as not to let on how his opinion on their location had suddenly changed. He did not say anything, but when Duen told them about how lovely the place was, and Ram, remembering being taken there by King’s sister, tried not to nod, because they didn’t know about his visit there, they finally agreed to go and help Duen cook. 

“You better get Bohn to help you,” Tang said as they piled into a cab. 

Ram felt a little self-conscious walking into the large house that looked like you could get lost in it. He ignored the photo he had looked at, a lifetime ago, when things had been simpler and his infatuation with King had been less intense and his father hadn’t broken his heart yet. King and the others were outside, the food piled up on the table. After saying hello, Duen demanded that Bohn help him carry the food inside and Ting, Tang and Phu went to look at the assorted beverages. Only Boss and King were left at the table and Ram felt out of place, standing there, silently staring at King. 

When he got up, he realised that he had never seen King wear the white dress shirt of their uniform. Usually, only the engineer freshmen wore them and then moved on to the more practical uniforms. He looked quite formal like this. 

King walked up to him, looking at his face as if he was trying to find something there. Ram felt strange, being studied like this while his friends were watching. “I didn’t think you would come,” King finally said, though Ram wasn’t sure why. If Duen was ordered to cook for Bohn, of course he would be there to make sure that Bohn behaved. 

He put down his backpack on the table, but continued looking at King. And then, all of the sudden, it hit him again. How much he had missed him this last week and how much he wanted, needed to tell him about his suspicion about his father. Having King study him like this almost brought tears to his eyes and he hated that they weren’t alone. 

“What are you thinking about?” King asked, making it all worse. “You’re frowning.”

Ram couldn’t tell him like this, not with the others around. He regretted coming now, because there was no escape from this, was there? 

Suddenly, King took his wrist, like Ram had done to him a dozen times by now. “Come with me,” King said gently and pulled him away from their friends. He led him down a path between trees and flowers, a tiny paradise that resembled King’s condo, only that it was an actual garden with a canal flowing through it. Ram loved it instantly. 

King stopped on a small bridge, in front of a tiny but beautiful cabin made out of wood and glass, sitting right above the canal.

“This is my secret place,” King announced and Ram felt the urge to reach out and take King’s hand and squeeze it, because there were no words that could express how much it meant to him that King had known somehow that he needed to be alone with him and he had taken him to the most secluded place he could think of. A place that he was clearly attached to and spent a lot of time in. 

“When I feel down, I like to come here and relax.” King began walking towards it and Ram needed a second until he could make his legs move. Then he followed him into the cabin. 

Unsurprisingly, there were more plants inside, and apart from a small table and a couple of shelves, there was no furniture to speak of. Almost all of the walls were made of glass, giving it the impression of a winter garden. King sat down on a cushion beside the small table and Ram had sat down, too, looking around the cabin in fascination. 

None of the city’s noise could be heard inside the cabin, and the air was clean and refreshing, the scent of Jasmine surrounding them, even though he hadn’t seen any trees. Maybe they were further down in the garden. 

If this was where King had grown up, he could absolutely understand his obsession with plants. This cabin in its surroundings was the most peaceful place he could imagine. 

After a while, he noticed King’s gaze on him and the longer he continued looking, the more aware he became of being watched. But then King turned away and picked up a pot with a very fragile looking plant in it. There was a single blossom on it, and King touched the leaves carefully.

“All plants need time to grow,” he said, looking at Ram as if he was trying to say something else entirely. “It’s not at all easy to make them grow. But after a while you get a result, which is this beautiful flower.” 

And then he carefully picked the blossom from its stalk and held it up for Ram to smell. Ram was surprised that he had plucked the flower at all, but he leaned down to inhale its scent deeply. He couldn’t define it, but it was utterly lovely. 

“It’s pretty, right?”

Ram looked at it again, noting intricate patterns on the petals, and just when he wanted to take it from King, King lifted his hand and very carefully tucked the flower into his hair above his ear. 

The touch made his heart flutter and he knew he was blushing, and there was absolutely no way he could hide it from King. But King just looked at him, as if Ram was just as beautiful as that flower, and suddenly his suppressed hope re-emerged. Maybe, just maybe, King felt something for him, too. Maybe he wasn’t interested in Pin Pin, but had wanted to make sure that Ram was single. Was that it? Had he completely misread the situation? 

But no matter what, King hadn’t said anything to that effect, so he couldn’t make presumptions and end up hurting himself unnecessarily. King was just doing what he always did, he was being kind and gentle and a little weird about plants. It was only that his expression was so open and vulnerable right then that not kissing him was becoming more impossible by the second. 

Ram reached up and carefully pulled the blossom out of his hair, looking at it closely. 

“I don’t know what is upsetting you right now,” King said gently, “but I am sure that you will get past it. Just like these plants, after the hardest stage, it will become a beautiful flower.” 

Ram looked at him, his heart full to the brim, unable to speak or think or even react beyond holding the delicate flower in his hand and looking at King, who turned away to look at his plants, probably checking their progress since he had last been here. 

No matter what was between them, or what wasn’t, except for his wishful thinking, he knew with absolute certainty that King was the kindest person he had ever met. Loving him couldn’t be wrong, could it? Even if it wasn’t returned, it was precious. And Ram knew that he would do anything to protect him from being hurt, if he could. 

He knew he was staring lovingly at him and was caught a little off guard when King turned around suddenly and focused on him again. “Hey Ning, people who talk so little, like you, must find it hard to find someone who understands them, no? That’s why you keep all your problems to yourself. But if there is anything that is bothering you, you can come here any time, okay?”

Just when Ram had thought he couldn’t love King more for being so caring, he was proven wrong. 

He nodded, knowing that his cheeks were flushed and that he couldn’t hide the emotion on his face, but King simply nodded back, confirming their mutual understanding, and then turned away again to gently touch the leaves of small sprouts behind him. 

And Ram knew he couldn’t stay silent. He fought with himself, trying to find the right words to say without messing it all up. He swallowed hard and finally found the resolve to speak. “The person who understands me,” he started and King turned around, looking surprised. “Is you,” Ram finished, finding it harder to speak now that King looked into his eyes again. But he meant every word of it. He had tried to not let his emotions show and King had seen right through it and taken him here, giving him what he hadn’t even known he needed. 

And now that he had said the words, he couldn’t take them back. He had expected King to react in his usual way, teasing him, because he had spoken a whole sentence, but he just stared at him, looking like he didn’t quite understand what Ram was telling him. 

“Umm, good,” he finally said, petting his arm and smiling, as if he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Ram’s words. Then he turned back again, giving Ram room to breathe. 

For a few moments, they were silent, Ram watching King and King looking at every single plant in the cabin, before King reached out for a pot and his hand slipped. He cursed and pulled his arm back, staring at his finger. Ram could clearly see a splinter sticking out of his skin. 

Ram remembered how scared King was of sharp things when King closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths, growing a shade paler. “Don’t laugh, just take it out, please!”

He pushed out his hand towards Ram and Ram waited until King had opened his eyes again before he held his finger still with one hand and then carefully took hold of it. King stared at his hand in obvious discomfort. He groaned when Ram pulled. It didn’t come lose as easily as he had hoped. 

“Ai’Ning, be gentle!” King seemed close to tears and Ram rubbed his wrist a little to calm him down. As soon as he began pulling again, King groaned again loudly, and when he finally felt it slip free, King yelled “Ai’Ning, it’s coming!”

Despite the severity of the situation, Ram couldn’t help but giggle. He had almost managed to pull the splinter free, but he couldn’t trust himself to do it now while he laughed. 

“What? That's not funny!” King complained, his confusion giving way to a grin, even though he clearly didn’t know why he was grinning. 

Ram bit his lip and shook his head and then he inhaled deeply to finish his work. He was glad that King wasn’t bleeding because, while the splinter had been quite long, it hadn’t penetrated King’s skin very deeply. The injury would only be superficial and he wouldn’t feel it for very long. 

Just then, Ting, Tang and Phu showed up, startling them. Ram dropped his hand, wondering why his friends had suddenly shown up. He wasn’t surprised that they had come looking for him eventually, simply having disappeared with King without notice, but he felt like their presence somehow diminished the magic of the place. 

“What are you guys doing?” Ting demanded, sounding like she had expected to find them doing something very different. Despite the mortifying thought of being caught in a compromising position with King by his friends, he couldn’t deny that his thoughts had moved there as well after King had started groaning. 

“I have a splinter in my hand,” King held it up, completely unaware of the innuendo in Ting’s question. 

“What’s wrong?” King then asked, clearly remembering that he was the host of this evening that that he probably should actually be with his guests. 

Ting mumbled something about splinters and then told them she had come to tell them that the barbeque was ready. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll be right there,” King nodded, but Ram did not miss his friends’ meaningful glances as they moved away to leave them alone again.

Ram was close to laughing again, but King seemed oblivious, still, and told him that they should go to get some food. They rose and left their little hiding place, but Ram stopped again on the bridge, looking back, feeling utterly grateful that King had taken his time to make sure that he was alright. 

Once they sat down to eat, he was both relieved and disappointed to find that King wouldn’t sit next to him. The food was lovely, and he was glad that Duen had decided to help Bohn cook. He’d probably done the lion’s share of the work and he felt a little bad that he hadn’t offered to help, but then he wouldn’t have had the best fifteen minutes in a very long time, alone with King and a small purple blossom which he had tucked away in his wallet as they had left the cabin. 

He let the conversation wash over him, glad to have something other than his family to focus on for the time being. But then King’s sister Kumfah turned up and sat down next to King, explaining that she had come to see the boys her brother had invited. When she asked Ram whether he was okay with that, he simply nodded, not wanting to offend her. 

“You know Ram?” Bohn enquired and Ram could feel his ears burn. 

“Of course I do,” she simply affirmed, without any explanation. Ram noticed Boss giving his friends a meaningful look and he wondered whether they had talked about them while they had been gone. Thankfully, she proceeded to ask Boss about Mek and then Bohn about Duen, who had somehow managed to get tipsy even before they had sat down and was now quickly closing the gap to becoming properly drunk. Even though Ram felt slightly uncomfortable with how she put everyone on the spot, he couldn’t help but watch King’s amused expression as his sister teased his friends. 

Judging from King’s face, Bohn’s admittance that Duen was his boyfriend, was the first public one. King seemed pleased about it, so Ram decided that maybe it was time to accept that they were officially a couple, despite their recurring disagreements. 

But when Kumfah shocked them all by asking whether they had had sex already, Duen suddenly seemed to sober up a little bit, asking whether she was trying to offend him, and moved Bohn to face him, clearly going in for a kiss. 

Everyone stared and Ram couldn’t quite believe it. He knew Duen got very drunk very quickly, but he had not expected him to pretty much boast to their collective friends that he had slept with Bohn. Ram was fairly sure that they hadn’t even kissed properly, and definitely not in public. 

When Duen didn’t quite manage to close the distance before losing his focus and dropping against Bohn’s chest, everyone seemed a little relieved, including Bohn. His esteem for Bohn rose significantly in that moment, especially since he touched Duen's face very gently, making sure he rested comfortably against him. He wondered whether he would ever feel King's head pressed against his chest like this. The thought drove heat into his face and he looked down.

They finished the meal talking about their exams, and every now and then King looked at Ram and smiled. It wasn’t a wide smile, but a private one that was clearly meant to let Ram know that he was there for him if he needed him. Ram began to wish that they had been sitting together after all, because then he could have squeezed his wrist, or even his hand, to let him know that he appreciated the thought. 

Once they were all full, and Duen was happily sleeping in Bohn’s arms while Ting had drank way too much and was upright only with Phu and Tang’s help, they said their good byes. Because Duen was clearly unable to go anywhere, King had decided that he and Bohn could sleep at his place and Ram wondered if it would be too much to ask to spend the night too. They didn’t have classes tomorrow and he really would have liked to stay in a place that wasn’t haunted by his own negative thoughts. 

But Ting was so unsteady that he felt he should make sure she got home safely. He watched as his friends carefully balanced her down the couple of steps in front of the house. Boss was also a little tipsy, but not nearly as drunk as the freshmen. Ram hadn’t touched the beer or the hard liquor, and while he imagined that it would have been nice to allow alcohol to slow his thoughts and fog his mind a little, he knew that he shouldn’t drink in the state he was in. So he had stuck to water and soda. 

After Kumfah had left, King asked whether they were sure that they didn’t want to spend the night, too, like Bohn and Duen, but Boss declined, saying he had plans in the morning and needed to be home. Tang said he didn’t want to bother King and that he wanted to make sure that Ting would get home safely. Phu said nothing, trying to hold himself and Ting upright. When it seemed as if she might throw up, they began walking away while King told them to make sure she had all of her things on her and to take good care of her. 

King clearly expected Ram to leave with his friends, and when he turned to go back inside, Ram quickly clasped his wrist, holding him back. He couldn’t possibly leave without telling him about his father. 

“What are you doing?” King asked, clearly confused. 

“My dad,” he started, but then Tang called out for him, asking what was taking him so long and that Ting would throw up soon, and he knew he couldn’t let them go without him. His heart heavy, he let go of King’s arm and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: I've gotten a new tumblr account, in case any My Engineer peeps want to follow me. I'll follow back! x (days-of-storm.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

Two and a half weeks of no classes lay ahead of him, and all he wanted was to go back to uni. He had cleaned his dorm room and gone to stay at his parents for the free weeks, but he knew that he couldn’t enjoy spending time with them as long as he still had doubts about his father. The only thing he looked forward to was going on the voluneer trip with the others. And King. 

When he came home, he found his mum and Ruj having tea and he joined them on the couch, trying his hardest to pretend that he was relieved to have some time off. But looking at his mum, he couldn’t help but ask about his dad. 

“He’s out of town for a business meeting, he should be back sometime tonight,” his mother explained, and Ram wanted so badly to believe her. 

“And did he say where he is going and who he is going with?” Ram knew that if he asked anything more specific, his mum would realise that something was wrong. He noticed Ruj give him an inquiring look and he pretended to not have seen it.

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. Why are you asking so much about your dad today?” The way his mother looked at him broke his heart. It was clear she believed that he wanted to know when his dad would be back so he could talk to him and she would have liked him to talk to her instead. He felt his heart in his throat. There were very few things he wouldn’t tell her, but she was right in assuming that something weighed him down that he couldn’t share with her. 

He smiled at her, hoping that she wouldn’t think it was something too serious. “It’s nothing," he lied.

His mum gave him one last questioning look before she asked Ruj to help her bring in the laundry. He was glad that for her, the conversation seemed to be over, and he hoped dearly that it was. As he watched them leave, he felt like crying. He knew in his heart that his father was betraying her and yet he didn’t have any kind of certainty beyond seeing him in the car with another woman. 

When his phone pinged, he was grateful for the distraction. When he saw that King had texted him, he felt worlds better.

_“Done stressing yet?”_

Ram sighed. After yesterday, he knew that King wasn’t just trying to be funny. He was worried. Ram wondered whether he should have texted him about his suspicion. King had been ready to listen to him and while he did not regret making sure that all of his friends had reached their homes safely, he still wondered how the night would have progressed had he decided to stay. 

_“If not, go and have a look at the pictures I posted yesterday!”_

Ram clicked on the link King had sent and couldn’t help but smile. King had taken several selfies of the group, and everyone had been silly and smiling, pulling ridiculous faces and generally enjoying that they had survived the exams. For a few hours, he had been okay. And for a few minutes, he had been more than that. 

_“Or did I stress you out even more?”_

Ram wasn’t quite sure how to take that question. Did King think that Ram had been upset about something that had happened last night? Did he have second thoughts about what he had told him in the cabin? Or was he just worried that asking him about his stress would remind him of it and lead to more stress?

He sighed, realising that he was doing exactly what King had hoped he wouldn’t, so he mindlessly scrolled through his facebook feed, hoping to find more distraction. 

He stopped at an image of two intertwined hands, clearly that of a man and a woman. Pin Pin had posted the image with the caption _We will hold hands forever!_

Ram felt the blood drain from his face when he recognised the watch on the man’s wrist. It was the watch his mum had gotten fixed for his dad just the other day. The man’s hand was his father's, there was no doubt about it. Pin Pin was the woman he had seen with him. He had taken her to the hotel. He had betrayed his mother with his closest friend and he had pretended for a week that everything was perfectly normal. And she had sat there, outside of their house, telling him to only pay attention to the good side of a person who had done wrong while knowingly ripping his family apart. He felt sick to his stomach.

Struggling to form coherent thoughts, Ram got up and went to his room. He packed a few clothes into his backpack, his toothbrush, his charger, his razor and a few cans of dog food, and then, finally, he carefully placed one of the two Venus flytraps that has grown a blossom over the last few days into the side pocket of his backpack, making sure it sat upright. He had completely forgotten to tell King about it yesterday, but now he knew that he needed to take it with him, if only to have a reminder that he did have one beautiful, unmarred thing in his life. 

Without saying anything to his mother and brother, he took the three giants and left, knowing that he couldn’t stand being in the same house as his father and risk running into Pin Pin. He needed to get away, but he couldn’t go to his dorm either, because his mum would look for him there. He should have left them a note after all, but it was too late now. He couldn’t go back inside. 

And then his father appeared out of nowhere, looking almost smug and Ram suddenly realised that he hated him. He had been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he had already known. He had felt it. And all of his love had given way to desperate hatred. 

He had always looked up to him and loved him more than anyone else in the world. His father had been his hero, teaching him most of the skills he knew. Supporting him with his boxing, taking him home after he had been in fights, making excuses for him when he got into trouble with his teachers. And he had always been so kind to his mum. He had bought her flowers and gifts for every anniversary and holiday. He had made sure she had everything she wanted. He had talked his mother into allowing Ram to get the dogs in the first place and ensured him that, if Ram wasn’t around to take care of them, he would feed and walk them. 

Now all of these memories were tinged with his betrayal. How long had it been going on? Pin Pin was around all the time. They could have met almost without anyone thinking twice about it for years. He held on tightly to his dogs’ leashes. 

“Where are you going?” his dad asked, looking a little worried. Clearly, Ram wasn’t able to hide his emotions from him. “Are you okay?”

He squeezed his shoulder and Ram fought the urge to hit him. 

“I know all about you and Pin!” he said, watching as his father withdrew his arm and moved away from him a little. He looked shocked. 

Good. 

“Aren’t you even going to explain?” Ram asked, wondering whether his father was ashamed for what he had done or just upset that Ram had found out. He felt anger spill over. “Say something, anything, so that I can at least say that I misunderstood!”

But his father stayed silent, his face reflecting his discomfort, but he wasn’t even trying to deny it. Ram felt the certainty of it all settle heavily in his stomach. “I’ve got to go! I can’t stand looking at you!”

He walked away, furious, but his father called him back. “Ram, wait!”

A tiny spark of hope after all. He stopped. 

“Please don’t tell anyone about this!” his father begged, and the spark was extinguished by the weight of his pain. If his hands had been free, he was almost sure he would have turned around and hit him. 

“Don’t worry,” he spat. “I promise that I won’t tell anyone, because I don’t want anyone else to have to feel what I am feeling right now!”

He did not look back and simply walked away. His feet carried him down the sidewalk of the main road, and then across a street and down another. He walked, tethered to the present only by his dogs, which quietly walked with him. His thoughts were hazy and he tried to tell himself again and again and again that he should have confronted him earlier. That he would have been able to make him stop. To save his mother an additional week of his betrayal. He should have seen it when Pin Pin had come up with her extraordinary answer to his question, all the while she had been the one who had hurt him. She had told him to smile while knowing that he was hurting because of her. 

He wanted to scream, but he could barely breathe. So he continued to walk. 

He heard the thunder and he noticed the lightening, but he didn’t really pay any attention beyond thinking that it was a perfect reflection of his mindscape just then. When the first rain drops fell, he realised that he’d need to find a dry place for the sake of the dogs. It would be difficult to find a place to stay tonight with them in tow, but if they were wet, nobody would take them. 

Near a park, he found a small building with a wide roof under which two drunk man were sitting, half a dozen empty beer bottles between them. He stood close to the building, not wanting to bother them. When they left, staggering away, their leaving felt strangely personal, even though they probably hadn’t even noticed him and the dogs. 

He felt utterly alone. 

More thunder rolled across the sky and he looked up, wondering if he would spend the night right here, outside in the rain with only his dogs to keep him company. When a familiar voice called him by his nickname, he was almost certain he had imagined it. When he turned around, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. 

King was hiding from the dogs behind the corner of the house, but he was still brave enough to show his face. “What are you doing here? It’s going to rain soon!”

Ram looked up at the sky, paying proper attention to the thunderstorm above for the first time. But he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. When his eyes met King’s again, he knew it would take just a single kind word from him to have him break down in tears. And he could tell from the look on his face that King saw it, too. 

“Come with me,” King simply said, taking a tentative step forward. Ram swallowed hard and waited until King had opened his umbrella – the umbrella he had given him on the bus, Ram noted with a tiny flicker of happiness – and began walking away, before he followed him. Now that he paid attention to his surroundings, he realised that they were only two blocks away from King’s condo, and as it began to rain, they walked faster. 

Once upstairs, King unlocked the door and went inside, shaking the water off the umbrella. “Come inside,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. “Just come in!”

Ram led the dogs into the flat, extremely aware of how large they were in the small space. 

“Hey, just leave them there, don’t let them come in,” King shouted when Boat, the largest of his dogs, became curious and started walking towards King. Ram closed the door and tried to keep the dogs in check. King, who had disappeared for a moment, returned and threw a towel at him. 

“Here, take this!”

Ram caught it and immediately began drying his dogs. He realised too late that King had meant it for him and not them. “It’s for you, not the dogs,” King complained and Ram straightened, beginning to dry his hair with the towel. 

“Wait!” King interrupted him. “You already used it on the dog, get a new one.” Because he only had the one he had been using himself, King threw his towel at Ram and Ram wondered whether he should point out that it also wasn’t a fresh towel anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words and simply used both towels to rub at his wet hair. 

“Dry yourself and then take a shower. You can stay here tonight. It’s still raining outside.”

He couldn’t stay, could he? Not with his dogs in King’s tiny condo. It wasn’t just their size, but the additional problem that King was clearly very scared of them, too, even though none of them had barked or done anything to scare him. But knowing King, it didn’t matter. Large dogs were large dogs, and he was scared of them. 

“It’s fine,” he tried to argue, hating the thought of leaving again. Walking into King’s flat had had the strange effect of calming him down considerably. 

“Do you want the dogs to get wet?” King asked and Ram was surprised by his consideration for them. 

“Just stay over, trust me!” King begged, and Ram was glad that he was so certain that it would be for the best. 

Ram took off his shoes and made sure that he wasn’t dripping water all over the place. King told him to put the dogs outside on the terrace and to tie them up there, and Ram did just that, remembering how King had told him about it during the bike ride. It was lovely, with a cot surrounded by plants. He imagined King lying in there, looking up at the sky, surrounded by what he loved the most. 

Ram went back inside and King showed him the bathroom, gave him a towel and then disappeared again. For a moment, he just stood under the spray of the water and allowed himself to breathe. He tried to concentrate on the sensation of the heat on his back and the steam in his face, the smell of King’s shower gel, and the shower floor under his feet. 

He was startled when the door opened, but it closed again after a moment, leaving only a small draught in its wake. When he stepped out of the shower, he found a change of clothes that King had left for him. He dried himself, brushed his teeth and spent a couple of minutes blow drying his hair, glad that the noise made thinking almost impossible. Once he had finished and slipped into the fresh clothes, he felt exhaustion set in. 

He had run away from home without a word to his mum or brother. He was sure his father wouldn’t have told them that they had met, and so it must have seemed like he had taken the dogs and just disappeared. Not leaving them a note had been a mistake. 

When he came out of the bathroom, King smiled at him, handing him a cup of tea. “I’ll go and hit the shower, too. Just make yourself comfortable, yeah?”

Ram nodded, once again surprised by King’s kindness. He got his phone, dreading to see the missed messages and calls. There were several by his mum, including a text that told him to take care of himself and that he could come home anytime, no matter what. Ruj had tried to call him and sent a question mark as a text. Tan had called, and so had Nam, and Phu had texted him, telling him to call him as soon as he could. Nothing from his father or Pin, and he was glad about that, at least. But he knew that he couldn’t just stay hidden without letting his loved ones know that he was okay. 

He knew that the only person who would just take his word for it would be Duen. He never pried and yet knew him best. He dialled his number, holding his breath. 

“Duen?” he asked when he picked up.

Duen seemed upset. “Where are you? Do you know that we were all looking for you everywhere?”

“I’m sorry I disappeared. I’m okay. I just need some time alone …. Please don’t worry about me. The dogs are fine and I will call my parents.”

“Okay.” Duen said, “look after yourself then!” and Ram had to hang up before he started crying into his phone. He made sure that it was on silent and put it away before he stood at the windows of the living room, looking at the lights outside, trying once again to just be. Once he heard the shower run and knew that King couldn’t hear him, he finally allowed himself to cry.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the final insert-chapter. After this, the story continues as it was. After watching the series again, it's clear that another day lies between the attack on King and them leaving for the camp. So I will probably add that additional day :-) more h/c in chapter 10, I guess!  
> But apart from that, this is it from Ram's POV. Thank you SO MUCH for reading <3

When King came back, he couldn’t quite stop crying. 

“Did you tie them up properly?” King asked, clearly worried that the dogs might attack him during the night. Ram wiped the tears away and hoped that King wouldn’t notice before he turned around to look at him. He knew that if he tried to speak now, he would start crying again. 

King noticed his silence and finally looked at him, and Ram nodded, but he could see that King knew that Ram wasn’t okay. He looked worried. 

Ram sat down on the far end of the sofa, his back still to King, but unable to stand up any longer. 

“Tonight, you’ll sleep in my room and I’ll sleep here,” King explained, still towelling himself off. Ram could see him in the reflection of the window, and he wondered why he just let him be and didn't press him to explain why he was upset. 

When King sat on the couch, looking at him, clearly not knowing what to do with the bundle of sadness across from him, Ram turned around and finally found his voice. “Aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

King sighed and looked at him with a strange expression, “I don’t have to. I can guess what happened.”

Ram turned away again, fresh tears spilling over. 

“Something must have happened at home that hurt your feelings badly. If you stayed at your dorm, your parents could come and find you,” he said, his voice very soft. Ram could barely breathe. 

“And you can’t tell your friends about it. That’s why you ended up wandering around with your dogs.”

Ram turned to look at him again, amazed by how well King knew him. 

“No answer,” King said quietly, “that means I’ve guessed right.”

Ram remembered the words he had spoken to King in the cabin and he knew they had never been truer. King understood him without him having to say anything, but he still didn’t know the secret that weighed him down and made it difficult to breathe. He turned back towards the window, trying very hard not to start sobbing. 

“Switch the lights off when you go to bed, okay?” King asked and then lay down, and, despite being so close to King, Ram felt utterly alone. He couldn’t stop the tears this time. He knew King could hear him cry, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

When he felt King’s hand on his shoulder, first gently and then firmly, he knew he needed to tell him. He needed to share the weight in his chest and King was there to carry it with him and he had never been more grateful for King’s presence in his life. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve to be sitting right there, in his living room in the middle of the night, crying his eyes out, to have King standing by his side, radiating safety, squeezing his shoulder. 

He sniffed and looked up at King, no longer embarrassed by his tears. 

“Today, my father and my best friend betrayed me. They are having an affair.” He could see how shocked King was as he realised what Ram was telling him. “What should I do?” he asked, knowing that there wasn’t an answer to his question. But King always had answers and maybe, just maybe, he had one now, too. 

“I don’t know, either,” King finally said, sounding emotional and Ram felt horrible for making him sad, but he was grateful that he shared his pain. It made it all easier to bear. King gently squeezed his shoulder again. “But you can stay here for as long as you need to, until you feel better.”

Ram felt his hand leave his shoulder and he wished he would have kept it there, anchoring him to the moment. He had not expected that a moment later, the same hand would settle on his head, ruffling his hair very gently. When he looked up in surprise, King tried to give him an encouraging smile, but Ram could see that he was close to tears, too, and it tipped him over the edge. 

He began sobbing, unable to hold in the pain any longer, and King pulled him close, allowing him to rest his head on his hip, gently petting his hair. “It will be fine,” King promised, his voice breaking and it made Ram only cry harder. 

Eventually, King sat down next to him and drew him into his arms, holding him very gently, rocking back and forth and making soothing noises against Ram’s hair while he cried until he had no more tears. He was utterly exhausted and finally he sat up, feeling a little colder when King withdrew his arms, cleared his throat and moved away.

“Thank you,” Ram said quietly, sniffing once again. 

King gave him a pained smile and nodded. “Go get some sleep, hmm?” he asked, petting his wrist. Ram nodded and got up, staggering into King’s bedroom. He dropped down on the bed and crawled beneath the covers. He fell asleep immediately. 

He awoke to a scream. For a second, he had no idea where he was and why he felt like a bus had ran him over. But then King’s screams did sound familiar. Oh god, the dogs. He must have tied them up sloppily, not really paying attention, and if King had opened the balcony doors after waking up to let in the morning air, he would have been confronted with three very happy and hungry dogs. 

Ram jumped out of bed and found King standing as high up as he could on his couch, a sandwich in his hand, which was clearly the reason why the three giants were happily crowding around him. Ram was grateful they hadn’t started barking, as they sometimes did when they got excited, because he knew it would have freaked King out even more.

He grabbed Boat by the collar and pulled them all back from King, and towards the front door, where he told them to stay. 

King collapsed on the couch, looking close to tears and Ram couldn’t help but smile, despite it all. He got the dog food out of his backpack and used paper plates to feed them, knowing that King wouldn’t appreciate him using real plates for his dogs. 

“Is that your breakfast?” Ram asked when King took another bite from the sandwich. It was prepacked and Ram remembered that King hadn’t been able to help with the cooking before Bohn asked Duen to come and help out. When King nodded, looking at his sandwich like nothing was wrong with it, Ram washed his hands and then began going through King’s kitchen cabinets. 

He found rice and garlic and ginger, all untouched, as if King kept a stock of them but didn’t actually use them much, and he found frozen meat in his fridge. Hoping he could make up for being allowed to stay at King’s place, he began cooking jok, assuring himself that King was fine with it by looking at him every now and then. King had stopped eating his sandwich and sat cross legged on the sofa, watching him. When Ram was done and placed two bowls on the small kitchen table, King got up and carefully stalked past the dogs before sitting down, pulling up his knees to his chest, just in case the dogs might come close. 

King kept his eyes on them while eating and Ram felt guilty for making him feel scared in his own home. King hadn’t made any of his usual light hearted quips and while Ram did feel a lot better after unburdening his heart, he did not want King to carry the additional weight of being terrified of his dogs. 

“I’m sorry, I will bring the dogs to Duen’s house,” he promised, but King immediately told him that it was fine. “They can stay, so you don’t get lonely, right?” His forced grin made Ram fall in love all over again. Once again, King was being selfless beyond any rhyme or reason. 

But I’m not lonely, Ram wanted to say. You’re here. 

“But you are scared of the dogs,” he said instead, and he could tell from King’s expression that he wasn’t convinced of his own decision to let them stay. And still, he refused to budge. “It’s fine, don’t worry. We should eat!” But even as he ate, his knees still sticking up above the edge of the table, he kept looking at the dogs.

It was then that he remembered the Venus flytrap. He had brought it outside to sit on the balcony with the dogs last night, but now he got up to fetch it. Maybe it would help distract King a little. 

And the look on King's face when he saw it told him that it had worked. He brightened immediately. “Is that the Venus flytrap that I got for you?” 

Ram nodded and began eating. 

King picked it up, looking at it lovingly. “It grew so big,” he said, before his expression changed. “I didn't think you would bring it with you,” he noted, frowning a little. 

Ram knew it would sound like a declaration of love, but he couldn’t hold back the words. “It’s important to me,” he said, seeing King’s eyes go wide. Then he felt heat rise up his neck and he looked down on the food, eating quickly, hoping that King wouldn’t want to know more. Because if he asked him now, Ram would answer, and he couldn’t face the consequences of that right now. Not now that he had felt something akin to comfort and safety for the first time since seeing his father with Pin Pin for the first time. 

Thankfully, King didn’t say anything, and slowly began eating, too. 

Afterwards, King told Ram to go and get changed while he washed the dishes. Ram took the dogs outside again, but he knew that the balcony was too small for them with all the plants everywhere. They would inevitably destroy the beautiful arrangement King had made for himself. 

Once he was dressed, he went to look for King, who had also gotten changed. “I have an idea,” he announced and opened the door to a room right by the front door. “The dogs can stay here, don't you think?” Apart from cleaning and gardening supplies, the room was almost empty. King unrolled a rug and placed it in the middle of the room. “It’s not large, but they’ll be comfortable, no?”

Ram wanted to hug him. Instead, he went to get the dogs from outside and led them into the room. Closing the door, he saw King finally relax his shoulders and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for giving up the room for them.”

King turned around, though Ram wasn’t sure whether it was because he still wasn’t used to hear Ram say something unprompted, or whether he was surprised that Ram thanked him at all when he clearly felt much better for having the dogs out of his sight. 

“Oh, no one is using that room anyway,” he said with another forced smile. “They can … stay in there, right?” He sounded hopeful and Ram nodded. For now, they would be fine, but he’d have to bring them to Duen’s house eventually, if only to allow King to be comfortable in his own home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Ram's POV of the nephew-sitting adventure in the park (Ep.12). It corresponds to chapter 12 of The Sound of Silence.

Oh god, children. 

Ram swallowed down the comment when King’s sister walked out of King’s condo, leaving her sons Kew and Kram with them. He hadn't even been able to listen to the short conversation King had had with his sister, apart from realising that she was very excited about something, he had been so busy trying to comprehend that King's tiny flat now held three giant dogs and two small children. A recipe for disaster.

Children that age needed to be entertained constantly. They needed to be watched all the time. And they said things. Embarrassing things. 

Ram had had enough experience with kids their age to know that they often noticed things they weren’t supposed to notice. Like Ruj, his brain added. Ruj knew things he wasn’t supposed to know. He had at their age and he still did, now he was older.

After they found the dogs in the spare room, he was momentarily grateful that they were there after all. While he would have loved nothing more than to just sit down with King and listen to him talk, he wasn’t as annoyed as he normally would have been if the boys had taken the dogs out of the room to roam the small apartment. But King had completely ignored how calm the dogs were around his nephews and had started to panic immediately, hiding behind Ram and clasping his arm tightly. 

He would remember that pressure on his bicep for a while. 

It only took a moment to separate the kids from the dogs and to put the dogs back into their room while the kids were sent to the bedroom to play with the phone King’s sister had given them. 

When they sat down on the couch, Ram had to suppress the urge to reach out and squeeze King’s knee. He wasn’t sure why his hand wanted to move that way, but he felt like he should reassure him that everything was fine and no dogs would be biting either him or the children. 

“I think we better take the kids outside. If we don't, they’ll destroy the whole place,” King suggested, moving only his head and nothing else to look at Ram. Ram mirrored him, regretting it instantly. He felt paralysed, staring at him. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was – the way his hair fell back and exposed his whole face, or the way he made the suggestion without moving, as if hoping they might stay on the couch a little bit longer, or the way he simply looked back at him without saying anything, his lips slightly parted and oh so inviting. 

Ram swallowed and nodded, relief flooding him that he was still able to move after all. He got up again and as he gave King a challenging glance, he realised that he had been right. King hadn’t exactly wanted to get up and Ram considered sitting down again. But no, if he did, he might not know what to do if King would continue to talk like he had. It was one thing to be close to him in public, but an entirely different thing to be so close in private. 

He checked on the dogs again while King got his nephews ready to go out. They took a cab to the park and then started walking aimlessly. King got his nephews ice cream and they fed some ducks and goldfish, and things seemed to be going relatively smoothly, until the kids felt they were bored by just walking and wanted to play something. Ram hadn’t said a single word and they hadn’t tried to make him talk. He was grateful for that. 

And then they suggested the piggy-back ride, and he was sure that he was about to lose his mind when the kids proposed that, in case they'd win, they’d get a photo of King and him kissing. It took him a moment to remember that King’s sister had believed they were together from the first time she had set eyes on him, but for a panicked moment he had been sure they had simply guessed that he wanted to kiss King – had wanted to kiss him all day – during the cab ride when he had pointed out interesting buildings to his nephews, when he had stolen a spoonful of ice cream, some of which had stuck to the corner of his mouth before his tongue had darted out to lick it away, and just before they had entered the grove and the children had complained about being bored, when King had shielded his eyes from the sun and smiled at Ram without saying anything at all. 

King had looked at him, suddenly, unexpectedly, looking neither shocked nor disgusted by the suggestion, just worried what Ram might think about it. And for a split second, Ram was sure King could see right through him and he closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying not to let any of it affect him. At least not so much that King or the children would be able to see what he really thought. 

But then King didn’t tell them off for making the suggestion, and neither did he seem particularly surprised. When he heard their explanation that King’s sister had asked them to propose a challenge of sorts to get such a photo, and had promised to reward them with a new video game, in case they did, he chided his sister’s approach to raising her kids, but he accepted the challenge without a second thought. 

Ram just stood there and tried to make sense of it all, but then King jumped onto his back and he had no choice but to run, because losing to those whimsical little bastards was not an option, no matter how much he wanted to see how King would react if they lost. 

And then his thoughts were wiped away by the weight on his back, the hands clasping his shoulders tightly, and King’s voice in his ear, shouting happily at him to go faster. For a few moments, the weight he had been carrying in his chest for weeks now – both his secret feelings for King and his utter sadness about his father’s betrayal – were replaced with King’s physical weight, which seemed so much easier to bear. 

For a few seconds, Ram felt truly happy to be right where he was. He glanced at King's happy face and he couldn't help but smile, too, knowing he was responsible for making him smile in that moment.

And then they went past the tree that marked the goal and he stepped on a dry stick and lost his footing, tumbling to the ground. He closed his eyes instinctively, fearing injury, but King reacted quickly and managed to catch his own fall without putting his weight on Ram. 

When he was sure he was safe and that he hadn’t twisted his ankle, he opened his eyes again and had his breath knocked out of him a second time. King was on top of him, not quite touching him, but effectively pinning him to the ground nevertheless. His legs straddled his thighs and his hands had landed by his elbows, making it impossible for Ram to push himself up. 

And he stared down on him as if he was seeing Ram for the first time. As if he wasn’t quite sure why they were where they were, and he’d need to do a whole lot more looking until he was. Ram was quite familiar with that particular sensation, but not from a receiving end. And when he realised what it might mean, his heart lurched and was suddenly beating much faster than it had only a moment ago. 

But King’s nephews interrupted them by snapping photos, and while Ram was not entirely ungrateful for the interruption – and the fact that there would be pictures of them now, like this, capturing this moment which Ram would undoubtedly replay in his mind again and again and again, suffering and enjoying silently - he would have liked to see how it would have played out if they hadn’t started taking photos. Because it would have been so easy to push his own arms out and cause King to lose his balance and topple down on him ...

Instead, he pushed at King's chest to make him get up, uncertain how much more of this he could take before forgetting himself and risking their friendship. King helped him up, pretending that nothing had happened, and Ram was glad that he didn’t tease him for falling in the first place. Instead, he teased his nephews, telling them they wouldn’t be getting a new video game after all. And then he pretended that nothing extraordinary had happened at all. 

Ram couldn’t concentrate on anything he told him afterwards, and he was surprised when King pressed him down onto a bench under a tree and told him to wait. Kew and Kram said their good byes and then they were all gone and Ram sat in the shade, trying to calm his beating heart. 

When King returned with fried mango and without kids, Ram’s carefully crafted defences crumbled again immediately. Without the children, there was no distraction, and King turned his full attention on him. 

That was, until he bit his tongue and asked Ram whether he was bleeding. He felt horrible for it, but it was exactly the kind of utterly unexpected distraction he needed to snap out of his state of mind. Making sure that King was fine was something he could focus on, and if that included staring at his mouth intently, then so be it. 

And then Mek and Boss came along and every word that came out of Boss’s mouth was innuendo. Yet, King simply huffed and turned the topic to Mek and Boss’s outfits, completely ignoring what they had said. Even when King offered them some of their snacks, and Boss jokingly asked whether he would come between them if he joined them, King didn’t so much as blink before repeating his offer. 

He seemed to have forgotten his bitten tongue after the exchange, because he kept on eating, and then he went away again to get some water, leaving Ram alone under the tree with even more doubts about what was happening between him and King. But then he remembered his father - a thought like a punch to his chest, which left him feeling raw and slightly ill. He moved to the lawn for a change of perspective, and finally he lay down, watching the sun breaking through the leaves of the tree, wondering if he reacted so strongly to King’s kindness because he felt so utterly alone. Maybe he was drawn to him simply because he was kind to him and the rest was his imagination short-circuiting. 

King appeared above him and wordlessly held out a bottle of water to him, but Ram couldn’t even move his arm for fear of taking hold of King’s wrist instead. And then King seemed to understand that he had been thinking about his father even though they hadn’t talked about him all day, and Ram wondered if he might be able to risk asking for a hug. King sat down and then joined him in laying down, his head right next to Ram’s, only upside down. He looked at him, quietly at first, and Ram felt his sadness fray a little bit, with King’s never-ending optimism seeping in. Then, when King pushed himself up on his elbow to look at him properly, asking him not to overthink everything, Ram wondered, for the first time, if King really, truly saw the world that way. Whether he saw his own pain as relative to that of other’s. Whether he dealt with sadness by knowing it would eventually pass. And then he asked Ram to smile, teasing him, until he did, even though his heart was breaking a little. 

Ram pushed himself up, too, facing King, unable to stay silent any longer. There were so many things he wanted to say - so many things he needed him to hear, but it all crystallised into one thought. “Thank you,” he said, feeling like he had never been more grateful to anyone in his life. He hoped that King would understand that he truly meant it. 

And then King just stared at his face and his eyes flicked to his lips repeatedly and for a moment he wondered if he had something on his face, but that couldn’t be it. It wasn’t that kind of look. It was a very, very different kind of look. 

Ram forgot to breathe for a moment and simply looked back, wondering if he should lean forward and just kiss him, because kissing King would be the only acceptable solution to this silence. But he couldn’t risk putting him off. He couldn’t risk not being able to see his beautiful face every day. He couldn’t risk having to leave his condo with nowhere else to go. The risk was just too great. 

And then King visibly pulled back and mumbled his much delayed reply, but he clearly just said it to say something, anything, and then he lay down, announced that it was nap time and closed his eyes. 

Ram was glad he had closed his eyes, because it meant he could look at him without him noticing. And he did, his heart aching, but somehow it seemed like it wasn’t all on him anymore. That not kissing him was a necessity, rather than a choice. And that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t one sided. 

He lay down again, trying to quieten his thoughts and his heart, but he made a decision right there and then. He would talk more, like he had this morning. He would be a little more forward with his affection. He would push his own boundaries and see how King would react and adapt accordingly, because if today had shown him anything, it was that King didn’t punch back; in fact, he refused to play in the first place. 

Ram remembered his happy remark on the bus when they had overheard those girls behind them. He had seemed amused and even a little proud that they had thought they were a couple. And while King had brushed off his sister’s comments about them, he seemed to have done it out of routine – because if she wanted to see her brother in a relationship with another man, then she doubtlessly made comments every time King was with any of his male friends. And over the last few days, King had been nothing but concerned and caring. 

He inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled, he felt the same sensation he had when King had teased him just a moment ago. His worries were pushed away by King’s presence on his mind. His happy, gentle voice, his wide, inquisitive eyes and his soft smile that had come to mean the world to Ram. All of it took up so much room that everything else seemed unimportant at the moment.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm, so, I saw that BTS clip of THE KISS (tm) and holy moly. Mazarin221b basically hijacked half of my workday by linking me haha. 
> 
> But, I forced myself to write the bits first that I had been wanting to write for the last couple of days - ~~and this one is answering the question of why, after the attack on King and the blatant hurt/comfort trope display (I swear, this show ticks off all the boxes), King and Ram wake up on different sides of the bed than they fell asleep on ( **edit** : after watching the scenes again it's clear that it's two different nights, because their shirts are different, but I chose to ignore that in favour of my headcanon ... though I might just extend the chapter a little bit to add another day and night, depending on how much time I have to write). ~~It picks up pretty much where the last chapter ended, minus the actual attack.
> 
>  **Edit #2** : So, I added the missing day to this chapter. Basically, some domesticity, Ram talking a whole lot more, and a little more healing time for King :-) With this, Ram's POV part is finished. Thank you so much for reading and for leaving super lovely comments <3

Everything after the attack was a blur. All Ram could think about was that he had been right to worry. That the happiness he had felt couldn’t last. His hands shook as he called an ambulance and only when they were on their way to the hospital, he stretched out his fingers, realising that they had cramped as he had held on to King, cradling him in his arms, trying to put pressure on the wound on his head without making it worse. He didn’t know whether the attacker had done more damage than just to break his skin, and he prayed silently that it would just be a concussion. 

Duen’s cousin Thara had just been helping another patient in the A&E when they arrived and he immediately made sure a colleague took over from him to be able to help King. After Ram told him what had happened, he began cleaning the wound, making sure that King’s skull wasn’t fractured and that there was no swelling of his brain. After minutes of feeling sick to his stomach, Ram felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. Thara smiled at him. “He’ll be fine, but he’s going to need stitches.”

Ram nodded. “Of course!” But then he remembered King’s fear of needles and he wondered how much of the procedure he would be aware of in his current state. He seemed conscious, and when Ram sat down next to him after he was wheeled into a different room for the treatment, King clasped Ram’s hand, squeezing tightly when Thara cleaned the cut once again. 

“I’m here, King. Don’t worry,” Ram said quietly. “Everything is going to be alright. I’m here. You’re going to be fine.” He knew he was saying it to calm himself just as much as King, but at least King looked at him instead of Thara preparing the needle, and he hoped it would be enough. 

When King’s fingernails dug painfully into his hand, he wondered if he’d need stitches for those as well. But he kept his hand where it was, counting the seconds in which Thara worked calmly and professionally on closing the wound. When he was done, he nodded at Ram. 

Ram gently plucked King’s hand from his own and hissed at the marks he had left on his skin. But he did not pay any more attention to them. Instead, he held King’s hand between his own, holding his gaze even as tears spilled over. King wiped them away and then leaned back and closed his eyes. 

Thara gave him something to calm down and made sure that the wound was covered properly. Then he asked whether Ram could take him home and put him to bed. “He’s going to have a headache for a while, but if he takes things slow, then he should be okay. But maybe he shouldn’t come to the volunteer trip. It might be too soon for that.”

Ram looked at King, who had dozed off, and nodded. He didn’t quite know how he managed to get him home, because exhaustion and relief had set in as soon as they had sat down in the cab. He had held him up to make sure he wouldn’t move too much in the car and then somehow he got him into his condo and into the bedroom. King fell asleep immediately and Ram went to check on and feed the dogs. He spent quite some time curled up against Boat, pressing his face into his fur, trying to stop shaking. When he had calmed down and he felt that his mind wouldn’t immediately backtrack and go over every minute of the day again, he took them outside for a while before making dinner for King. 

When he brought in the tray, King woke up. Ram helped him to sit and swallowed hard when King looked at him with wonder. He seemed unaware of what had happened, until Ram told him that he hadn’t dreamt of getting stitches, but that he really had been injured. There was a moment when King seemed to forget his pain to mention his fear of needles, as if Ram should have simply stuck a plaster on the wound instead of taking him to the hospital. But then his eyes fell onto Ram’s hand, where the half-moons of his fingernails were quite visible still, and Ram had to look away from his surprised face.

He was glad he had prepared dinner that he could serve him now without having to address the fact that King probably still had his DNA under his fingernails. When Ram proposed that he should skip the volunteer camp, King was so adamant about going that he couldn’t really bring himself to argue with him. 

And on top of all that, he seemed to get a whole lot better as soon as the first spoon of his dinner had passed his lips. He sat up and began eating like a starving man and all Ram could do was watch him, while his heart grew three sizes. Appetite was a good sign. It meant that King would be alright. Hopefully. 

Ram made sure King lay comfortably and then went to get ready for bed, too. He took a shower and changed into a tank top and the sweat pants King had given him last night. Then he lay down next to him, watching him sleep, feeling a little weird about it. But he had to make sure that he was okay, didn’t he? He had left him alone in his bedroom for too long already when he had been trying to get a grip on his own problems, and watching over him now was the least he could do. He fought the urge to rest his head on King's chest and hug him, even though he was fairly sure that this would be the only remedy for the anxiety that still gnawed on him.

When King stirred, Ram’s focus shifted. King was clearly in pain and that was unacceptable. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since King had taken the last painkiller, but it seemed late enough for another one. He put his own pillow under King's head to prop him up and pressed the pill into his hand. King seemed confused for a moment, but he sat up and took it without hesitation, thanking him, even though speaking clearly seemed to cause him pain. But King would never shut up, would he? Expressing his thoughts was such a huge part of him that he couldn’t stop, even if it meant discomfort. 

Ram did not allow himself to consider that this meant that if he felt anything akin to what Ram felt for him, he would have told him long ago. 

King settled back down onto the pillows and looked up at him, clearly exhausted and in pain, but nevertheless still talking. He asked Ram about his tattoos – again – and this time Ram decided to humour him and answer his question. But then King raised a tired hand and touched the dreamcatcher tattoo behind his ear, and the knuckles of his fingers rested, feather light, against his neck. Ram could feel that gentle touch in his heart and his belly and his toes. He almost moaned in reaction, and when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he brushed King’s hand away. 

He missed the touch immediately. 

The moment felt so intimate and so raw that he decided to explain to King why he had gotten the dreamcatcher, and how it hadn’t actually helped. And King, just as he had in the park, and despite the pain he was clearly still in, tried to soothe him and explain that bad dreams were only that, bad dreams. Then he placed his hand onto Ram’s and held it, trying to reassure him that everything would be alright. And Ram wondered whether, if he kissed him now, King would remember in the morning. 

He was glad when King pulled back his hand and asked him about his shoulder tattoo. It took him a moment to remember where he had gotten it and why, because his mind was still busy replaying the last couple of minutes. Once he did remember and began talking, King had drifted off and Ram felt like crying again. King’s trust and vulnerability touched him deeply and once again he had to keep himself from wrapping his arms around him, seeking comfort and trying to protect King at the same time. 

Instead, he pulled the blanket more tightly around him and then watched him for a while, making sure he was breathing regularly and deeply. Only when he was entirely sure that he was fast asleep, he dared to lie down again. 

When he woke up, King sat on the bed, looking down on him. His lips quirked into a smile when Ram stretched. He was still tired, but happy to see King awake. “Morning,” he said and cleared his throat, and the smile on King’s face brightened. 

“Morning. I fed the dogs. I think.” King grinned and then frowned. “I mean, I took some of the food you brought and put it into their room. But then my headache got too bad and I had to come back to bed.”

Ram sat up and rubbed his eyes. “How is it now?”

“Okay, if I don’t move.”

Ram nodded and then climbed off the bed, aware of the tension in his shoulders. He rolled them and then his neck, stretching again before leaving the bedroom to check on the dogs. They had finished the plate King had placed into the room and they all sat there, happily waiting for seconds while their tails wagged. Ram chuckled and gave each of them a cuddle. “Stay here for a bit, hmm? I’ll take you outside in a moment.”

He brought them water and more food and then went to the bathroom to relieve himself and to shower. He used King’s shampoo, not having packed any himself, and then shaved quickly. As he dried himself, he realised that his clothes were in King’s bedroom. With King. 

For a moment, he considered putting on the clothes he had slept in again, but knew that it was ridiculous. King had seen him fight Bohn in about as little clothing as he wore now. If he’d been at the gym, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice. But with King … 

He wrapped the towel around his hips securely and made his way into the bedroom. King leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, but he opened them when Ram started pulling clothes out of his bag. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Ram asked, hoping he had kept his appetite. “I’ll take the dogs outside and buy us breakfast.”

King inhaled slowly and then let go of his breath, as if trying to breathe away the pain. 

“Don’t take a painkiller before you’ve eaten,” Ram reminded him as he finally decided on a t-shirt. He’d need to borrow something from King to take on the trip – if they were still going. 

“Anything,” King finally said. “I’ll eat what you get.” He pulled a blanket up around him as if he were building himself a cocoon, with only his head poking out. He looked adorable and Ram wished badly that he wasn’t hurt, because then he could have teased him about it. 

Ram felt himself smile. “Okay.”

He got dressed in the bathroom, decided to leave his hair alone today, and then got the three giants. Before he left, he poked his head into the bedroom again. King lay curled up in the middle of the bed, but his eyes were open. “I’ll take your keys, alright?” Ram asked and King grunted his assent. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

Another grunt and Ram couldn’t help but chuckle at the reversal of their roles. He hadn’t even realised how easily words came to him now, while King, who had talked even through his pain, had grown mostly quiet. 

As he took the dogs downstairs, he found himself hoping that King really meant that he could stay with him for as long as he needed, because, right now, he felt like he needed to for a very long time. 

After allowing the dogs to roam the backyard for a bit, he took them down to the main road and bought breakfast. The dogs were still hungry, so he got them some chicken and beef that he could prepare for them. 

When he came back to the flat, he put the dogs back into the room, gave them more water and then put the breakfast into bowls. He’d gotten kongee and rice and salad and a cup of cold brew coffee for King. He put that into the fridge while he prepared everything else. Then he got the tray he had used last night and put everything on it, carrying it into the bedroom. 

King had taken a shower and wore a different t-shirt and track pants now, but he sat in the same place he had earlier, his head leaning against the wall behind him. Ram carefully put down the food in front of him before he climbed onto the bed and sat there, cross legged, holding out the coffee to King.

King took it with a smile and then closed his eyes as he drank, a contented noise escaping his throat. “Thank you,” he finally said, wincing, when he put down the half empty cup. 

“Eat something,” Ram encouraged him, holding out a bowl to him. 

“Feed me,” King suggested, laughing a little. “I’m not very coordinated right now.”

“Do you really want to go on the trip?” Ram asked, ignoring the spark of heat that King’s joking suggestion had sent down his spine as he placed the bowl into King’s hand. 

King nodded and seemed to regret it instantly. “I’ll be fine. I just need to take the painkiller. You’ll see.”

“Thara said …” Ram tried, but King began eating stubbornly, as if trying to prove that a little pain and dizziness wouldn’t stop him. 

“I’ll be fine,” King simply said again. Ram got him a painkiller and waited until he had finished the bowl before he took it from him and placed the pill into his hand. Then he handed him the coffee so he had something to wash it down with.

King leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes again. 

“Do you want to sleep some more?” Ram asked, wondering how bad King really felt. 

“No. I don’t know. I don’t want to lie down.”

“The couch, then?”

“Hmm.”

Ram handed King a second helping and then ate his own breakfast, watching as King chewed slowly. At least eating didn’t seem to be a problem. 

After they had finished, Ram took the tray into the kitchen and then helped King get up. He took the blanket and a pillow and then made himself comfortable on the couch. 

“You should call your mum,” King suggested, and Ram felt his stomach turn. He had forgotten about his family, being so grateful to stay with King. 

He didn’t answer and he could feel King’s eyes boring into his back. 

“Then tell Duen?”

Duen knew he was fine, though, didn’t he? He pulled out his phone, ignoring the new messages he had gotten and texted Duen. _“Just in case someone asks. I’m fine.”_

Duen texted back immediately. _“You haven’t called your parents.”_

Ram sighed. _“I will. Just not yet. I need more time.”_

_“Okay. Take care, Ram!”_

He put the phone away and went to do the dishes. When he came back to the living room, King was asleep. Ram sat down next to him, watching him for a while before he caught himself and looked away. To find distraction, he went to King’s book shelf and pulled out a random book. As he sat down to read, he found that he couldn’t concentrate. He tried playing a game on his phone, but he lost track of that, too. So he went to pack his clothes for the trip, leaving his work out clothes in King’s closet. Then he took them out again and put them on and spent a couple of hours working out on the balcony. The exercise finally helped calm him down and when he came back inside, taking another shower, he felt a little less on edge. 

He made lunch, woke King up to eat and take another pill, and then settled down on the couch again, finally able to concentrate on the book while King fiddled with his phone. 

It was dark when he closed the book and reminded King that he still had to pack his own things for the trip. King got up, a little shaky on his legs, and Ram joined him in the bedroom. “Can I borrow a t-shirt?” he asked, knowing his would only last until Sunday and that he wouldn’t have a shirt to wear after coming back before washing his clothes. 

King smiled and pulled a t-shirt out for him and then a white sweatshirt as well. “It’s going to be chilly at night,” he said and put both into Ram’s hands. Ram smiled and was acutely aware of his own hands brushed King’s wrists as he took the clothes from him. 

“Are you better?”

King nodded. “Much.”

“I’m glad,” Ram said and then turned away, because King’s expression made his heart beat faster. 

They ordered pizza for dinner and watched some videos on King’s laptop until King began to get tired again. Ram half carried him into bed and helped him to lie down comfortably. When he was sure that King was deeply asleep, he carefully left the bed and began packing the rest of their things for the trip. King had already put his clothes into his bag, but Ram added toiletries and a couple of snacks, too, and water bottles. And he put an extra bottle of pain meds into his own bag, just in case.

He took the dogs outside again for a walk and then locked them back into King’s spare room, but not without cuddling them first. When he got into bed, he hoped that King would feel better in the morning. Maybe the day of rest would have been enough, but he was still worried. They’d be sitting on a bus for most of the day at first, but the hike and the tree planting did worry Ram. 

He looked at King’s sleeping face for a moment, once again amazed by how easily King trusted him. He knew so little about him and yet he had taken him into his home and let him borrow his things and let him use his kitchen like it was his own. His heart beat heavily in his chest when he reached out and very gently touched King’s hair. He wasn’t sure whether he’d feel it if he touched his cheek, but he didn’t trust himself to do that. King would wake up and he would have to explain himself and he really, truly couldn’t. 

With a sigh, he switched off the light and then closed his eyes, listening to King’s steady breathing.

He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he woke up again. Hair tickled his nose. 

It took him a while to realise that the reason for it was King, who lay curled up in his arms, his forehead resting against his collarbone. One arm was wrapped around his lower back while Ram’s own right arm lay across King’s shoulder. King's right hand and his own left hand were clasped between them.

Ram’s heart began beating so hard he was afraid that it would wake King up. When he finally got his bearings, he realised that King had moved almost all the way onto his side of the bed, claiming Ram’s space for himself. 

For one moment Ram was afraid that King might be woken up by an entirely different physical reaction which he became painfully aware of in this moment, but their hips didn’t touch, and Ram was eternally grateful for that. 

Careful not to wake King up, he detangled himself from him and slipped away into the bathroom, where he spent several minutes letting cold water run across his wrists. Then he looked at himself in the mirror, told himself to get a grip, and went back into the bedroom. Ram carefully opened the curtains to be able to open the window, needing some fresh air after all of this. Then he lay down on King’s side of the bed and, after making sure that King was properly covered by the duvet, he buried his face in the pillow that smelt of King’s shampoo and immediately fell into a deep slumber.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the bus to the camp, with an explanation for the title of this little series :)

He felt as if his body had turned to lead over night when the ringtone of King’s phone slowly seeped into his consciousness. He chose to ignore it. He felt King move next to him, and all he could think was that getting up so quickly must have been painful for him. 

God, he felt emotionally hung over and just wanted King to lie back down so he could stop worrying and fall asleep again.

And then he was dragged into an upright position and he really, truly did not want to wake up. He blinked tiredly at King, who seemed anxious and who spoke too loudly and too fast and who looked so much better than he had dared to hope. And then he told him to take a shower while pulling on his arm and his sleep addled brain couldn’t quite process why he was asking him to, but then he remembered how he had woken up to find them cuddling in the middle of the night and the effect it had had on him physically, and suddenly he was wide awake. 

When King told him that it would be faster if they showered together, he knew that he would need to find a way to avoid that particular scenario, because there was no way he would be able to stay calm if King was naked and wet in the same room as him. 

He allowed himself to be dragged into the bathroom, but as soon as King began undressing, he turned towards the sink and began brushing his teeth vigorously. He avoided looking into the mirror and hid his face behind a towel when King emerged from the cubicle. Then he pushed his way past him and undressed, stepping into the shower while keeping his back to King, feeling utterly ridiculous but hoping that King was stressed enough about them having overslept to not notice just how awkward he was. 

When he stepped out of the shower, a towel around his hips, King was already dressed and was checking on his wound in the mirror. Ram saw his attention shift and their eyes met briefly in the reflection before King let his eyes wander down to the tattoos on his chest. 

“I’ll tell you about them later,” Ram said and then fled into the bedroom where he dressed quickly, despite still being a little wet. 

“My sister will pick up the dogs and take them to Duen’s family. His little sister loves them and they’ll be cared for properly,” King told him when he came out of the bathroom. Ram nodded his agreement, glad that King had thought of them while Ram hadn't even considered that they would need to drop them off before the trip, being so worried about King. Daoheni loved his dogs and he was relieved that King hadn’t suggested to drop them off at his parents’ house. 

“Come,” King took him by the wrist just as he picked up his backpack and pulled him out of the apartment. Ram followed him all the way down the stairs and along the sidewalk until they found a cab. Only then did King let go of him and Ram sat down, his pack on his knees and his own fingers around his wrist. He wondered if he should get a tattoo right there. Would King still wrap his long, slender fingers around it if it was there? Would he touch it, gently, like he had his dreamcatcher two nights ago? And would he wake up on another night to find King in his arms and feel like he had come home?

 _Oh god, don’t think of last night,_ he chided himself. Instead, he forced himself to look at King and focus on what was real. “How is your head?”

“Hmm?” King seemed surprised he had spoken, as if it was still a strange concept to King, despite their conversations over the last two days. “Oh,” King touched his head gingerly. “I feel much better. I think the medicine helped. And sleep.”

Ram nodded, hoping that King wouldn’t ask why he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. 

He was relieved when they reached the bus, but mortified when all of their friends appeared to be absolutely certain that they had spent the night together. Well, they had, in a way, but it only made their quips harder to bear. Then he remembered that they hadn’t seen him since he had fled to King’s condo and he felt himself blush for reading too much into their comments. They seemed happy to see him, most of all.

Once the bus got moving, he pulled out his headphones and turned away from King to look out of the window. He was still trying to make sense of last night and sitting right next to King didn’t necessarily help. The music helped a little – until his battery ran out and he cursed himself for not charging his phone before the long journey. 

Resigned, he put his headphones away, wondering if any of his friends had brought a power bank. Suddenly he felt something cold in his ear and he turned towards King, who had placed one of his earbuds into his ear, explaining that he was just doing for Ram what Ram had done for him on that rainy day when they had taken the bus home. The day Ram has been unable to ignore the feelings King had awakened in him and that had stayed with him and only grown stronger since. 

It was the same song King had selected on his phone then, too, and the memory made him smile. King told him that he interpreted his smile to mean that he liked the song, and Ram couldn’t help himself. King had already closed his eyes again, quite satisfied with the situation, and Ram felt his heart melt at the sight. “I like it,” _I like you_ , he confirmed gently and he could see by King’s surprised look that he understood the ambiguity of his answer, using only the short, informal version of it. 

He had to avert his eyes, feeling like a coward. 

When King frowned and scratched his scar, Ram wondered if the pain killers had stopped working. “Does it bother you?” he asked, hoping that King wouldn’t be suffering too much as his wound healed. 

“Why do you ask that?” King seemed irritated by his inquiry and Ram had absolutely no idea why he would be. When Ram clarified that he meant his stitches, King pretended that he knew that Ram’s question had concerned them all along, and he confirmed that the stitches were itchy, but his reaction made Ram wonder what else he might have thought. 

_I like you._

No. It couldn’t be. Could it? Was King actually … he couldn’t. He would have said something. 

He decided to not think about it too deeply, because it would do nothing more than make him worry and overthink everything even more than he already did, so he decided to have a look at the scar, just to make sure that it hadn’t reopened or gotten infected. He carefully pushed King’s hair out of the way to look, but then King looked up at him, and he saw his own doubts so clearly reflected in his expression that all he could do was to look back at him. His decision to not think too deeply about what King might or might not feel for him was wiped away by those gorgeous eyes that stared into his. 

But a moment later, King pushed his hand away, saying he wanted to listen to his music again. Ram felt disappointment flood him, and didn’t say anything else, not wanting to confuse King even more. He looked out of the window again, ignoring King’s glances at him which he still noticed in the corner of his eye. 

King’s playlist was a random selection of current pop songs, some classical music and some R&B. He had to smile when The Fugees' “Killing Me Softly” came on. He hadn’t heard the song in ages, but now that he listened to it, the words suddenly seemed so much more personal. King's constant talking offered a running commentary on his life – their life, currently – and he knew him so well and he listened to him even when he wasn’t talking, finding just the right words to make him feel better. 

_I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd_  
_I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud_  
_I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on_

“Ning,” King’s voice broke through the verse that made his ears burn. “I don’t understand what she’s singing. Can you translate it for me?”

Ram frowned hard, trying to banish any telling signs from his face. He wasn’t sure how well King understood English, but he definitely wasn’t ready to repeat those words to him. Not while looking at him and laying bare his soul. 

“She fancies a musician,” he shrugged. “She goes to a concert and he sings for her. No, that’s not right. Not for her. He just sings a song that she feels is about her.”

“But why ‘killing’? Why ‘softly’” King had plucked the bud from his ear. He pronounced the English words almost with reverence. 

Ram wanted to shake him. Couldn’t he see that he was doing exactly the same thing to him?

“It’s just a saying,” he shrugged again. “The song doesn’t make a lot of sense,” he lied, looking right into his eyes. 

“Okay,” King didn’t seem satisfied, but he didn’t push it any further. 

Ram closed his eyes, waiting for the next song to start. Another sad love song. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because the bus had stopped when he opened his eyes again. King’s face was turned towards him, and he seemed to sleep. Ram wondered if he should risk closing his eyes again and leaning towards him. Not aiming for his lips, specifically, but just to see what would happen. Just then, King’s eyes fluttered open and after a few tired blinks, he suddenly shot upright and began to gather his things together. “We’re here,” he announced, unnecessarily, and then he walked down the aisle, leaving Ram sitting there, his neck hot and his heart beating heavily in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have no idea how Thai works as a language, but King's reaction on the bus when Ram tells him "ชอบ" sounds a lot like it can be understood in different ways, and, having looked up the translation, ชอบ, apparently means "like", but also "care (about)" or "prefer", so as Ra, is confirming his like for the song, he's also confirming that he likes King. So, ~~my headcanon~~ [confirmed canon is that] Ram just declared his adoration for King in a way that could also just mean that he liked the song, and King understood it exactly like it was meant.
> 
>  **Edit** : As I rewatched the show, I noticed that Bohn and Duen have the exact same conversation when Duen asks Bohn whether he likes the soup, so it became clear that this is deliberate. And then I came across this Tumblr post, which confirms it, too :) So ชอบ can mean "I like you". https://learningthaiforthaibls.tumblr.com/post/618581096329838592/okay-i-wanted-to-scream-a-bit-about-this
> 
>  **edit#2** : So I just learned that when Ram asks King whether he's itchy, in Thai it also means horny. It's hard to write that pun into the story, though, so I'm sticking with my more PG version of it, but it's funny as hell and explains why King is so flustered. As if Ram would ever use language like that, King. Get your head out of the gutter XD


	12. Chapter 12

He found King again as they moved towards the camping-ground and fell into step with him. When King suddenly tripped over a root, he reached out to keep him from falling, but King pretended that he was alright and that Ram’s help had been unnecessary. 

He wasn’t sure why, but King's reaction told him that he needed to pay closer attention to him. King pretending to be fine when he clearly wasn’t worried him. A lot. 

After they had dropped off their bags at the camp, everyone went to the waterfall for a bit of fun, but King didn’t seem in any great hurry to follow their friends, so Ram stayed with him. They didn’t speak when they finally set off, too, and Ram wondered whether King was annoyed with being shadowed all the time. The thought occurred so suddenly and so painfully that he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. 

The water was cold, but since King didn’t complain, he didn’t say anything either, even though it would have been something harmless to say. Something that couldn’t be misconstrued … unless King would make a joke about his nickname. He had to smile at that thought, despite the queasy feeling he had, as he watched King wade through the hip deep water. They hadn’t taken off their shirts, for which Ram was grateful. 

He reminded King to be careful, thinking about him tripping earlier, and then turned to look at a random plant that grew above the water. He did not want King to feel that he was controlling him, but couldn't help but be worried. 

A surprised shout and a splash drove him around and he saw King completely submerged in the water. There was a rock showing just above the surface and Ram was almost certain that King had managed to hurt himself on it. For a horrifying moment he imagined that he would lose him like this. Having turned his back on him, he hadn’t seen it happen, nor had he been close enough to catch his fall. He felt panic rise in him as he rushed forward and helped King up, relieved beyond words that he was fully conscious and talking.

Yet, no matter how much King insisted on it having been an accident, and that he had just slipped, he couldn’t stand letting him continue splashing around. He knew it wasn’t really his place to do so, but he pulled him out of the water, despite his protests, and made him sit down on the concrete ledge of one of the small dams below the waterfall. His t-shirt clung to him and he was cold, and Ram allowed himself a couple of seconds to look at his chest, pretending to check for injuries. He carefully ran his hand over his back, too, for the same reason. King looked at him as if he truly didn’t understand why Ram was so worried. 

To give him a little space, he told him to stay where he was and walked away, trying to forget the fear that still tingled in his fingertips. To disperse the feeling, he began making a wreath out of grass, twigs and flowers, like he had seen King wear as a boy in one of the family photographs at King’s house when his sister had driven him and his bike home. He wondered if King would find it stupid, but somehow he felt that it was a chance to apologise, too, for being so overbearing. 

It was such a difficult line to walk, because King had clearly appreciated him taking care of him during the last two nights. And before, when he had bitten his tongue and he had wanted him to have a look. At the same time, he felt that during the bus ride and their awkward conversation, something had changed.

Once he had finished, he walked back and was glad to find King still sitting where he had left him, reaching out for his scar but then dropping his hand again, and apparently deep in thought. Ram walked up to him and carefully placed the wreath on King’s head. 

King seemed surprised, but when he had looked at the wreath, his expression was open and happy, as always, and Ram felt warmth settle in his tummy, despite sitting down in the cold water again. When King put it back onto his head and fixed his hair a little, asking whether he looked good, Ram tried very hard not to laugh, because he looked ridiculous, but simultaneously so handsome that he took his breath away, and when he felt like he couldn’t keep himself from telling him exactly that, Ting Ting’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and he swallowed the words back down. As Ting Ting and Tang emerged from the undergrowth, King immediately asked Ting Ting to take a photo of him. When she asked him whether he had made the wreath himself, King's answer surprised Ram. “A very kind person gave it to me.”

King had called him kind. And if he did that, it meant that he thought Ram to be kind, too. He couldn't remember anyone thinking about him that way. Anyone who didn't know him would have described him as arrogant, aloof, threatening, even, and sometimes for good reason. He was serious and thought too much and he tended to deal with his issues by hurting others. And he knew his friends loved him and took him for who he was, but none of them had ever called him kind. 

Ram felt heat rise to his neck and he was fairly sure he was blushing visibly, so when Ting Ting told him to move so she could take the photo, he was almost glad that he could escape, but King told him to stay and be in the photo with him. 

For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. King was clearly ready to pose for the photo, being adorably proud of the wreath, and Ram realised that it would be the first picture of the two of them together. Not just his arm pressed into the crook of King’s neck to show off his tattoo. Not a picture posing without shirts to get their fellow female students to help them finish the preparations for the charity trip they were now on, not the dinner at King’s house during which they all had been silly. No, this was just the two of them.

He did the victory sign, knowing he would feel embarrassed about it later, but it was safer than keeping his hands down and looking like he was just sitting in this stupidly beautiful spot next to the most beautiful man he knew. 

The photo had turned out well, as far as he could see when King checked it, and he was relieved it was over. But then Tang mentioned to Ting Ting how much they looked like a couple and how sweet he thought they were together and Ram swallowed hard. It was one thing for a group of teenage girls to say that about them on the bus, but an entirely different thing when his best friends said the same. 

He knew his friends were very perceptive. They had been the first to realise that Duen was having feelings for Bohn, and the way they sometimes dropped comments about strangers that passed them by, only to find out that their predictions had been true, made him wonder why they thought that he and King might be a couple. 

Apart from the fact that King had snuggled up to him during the night and that he was longing for a repeat experience of that with all of his being. But they couldn’t know that, and, as far as he could tell, King was also oblivious. He felt himself blush as he stared ahead, allowing himself to imagine a version of his reality in which he could just turn his head and kiss King.

He realised King was watching him and he wondered whether he would say something to contradict them or, like he had on the bus, to ask whether Ram had heard it too. But when their eyes met, King stayed silent and finally looked away again. It was his silence that awakened another small spark of hope in Ram. 

But then King started talking again, sounding his usual happy self, until he mentioned Ram’s father. The happiness Ram had felt turned into lead when he remembered that he hadn’t spoken to his mother in several days. He still didn’t know how to talk to her, because saying nothing about his father would mean to lie to her, but saying something would mean that her heart would be broken. And he had told his father that he wouldn’t tell her. He couldn’t be the one hurting her and he knew he would either hurt her or feel like shit whenever he looked into her eyes. 

King was talking again, apologising for raising the issue at all, clearly reading the distress on his face. In a way, Ram was glad that he still understood him, even when he didn’t talk. And by drawing his attention away from his own person, King had made sure that Ram had snapped out of it and could, just as King had told him, see his own pain in relation to that of others. It made his longing for King a little easier to bear. 

But then King's hand settled on his thigh, and he squeezed, and Ram could feel it all the way down into his toes. He rose and walked away, knowing that if he had sat there for a minute longer, his physical reaction to King’s hand on his thigh would have caused him a whole slew of new problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the next one is going to be about the final 1 1/4 episodes :p  
> After that, I'm the stories from King's perspective.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the final chapter, but then I had to write this bit of angst instead and needed it to stand on it's own.  
> Chapter 14 will then be the final one in this mini-series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3

When Tang offered Duen to share his tent with him, Ram was glad to know that he wouldn’t have to worry about his best friend. Bohn had been in a mood all day and, after walking away from King, Ram had stayed close to Duen, trying to help him take his mind of Bohn. And, if he was honest with himself, he was grateful for the distraction, too. 

But then he realised that Duen was taking his place in Tang’s tent, so he would have to find a new place to sleep. Tang suggested that he share his tent with Phu, but Phu had apparently been left off the list entirely and didn’t have an assigned tent at all. 

From a few feet away, King’s voice broke through his thoughts as he complained to Tee that he had offered Bohn the place in his tent and that he did not want to sleep by himself. Ram immediately knew that the problem of where he would spend the night had just been solved. Of course King wouldn’t sleep by himself, not if Ram had anything to say about it. He had a head injury and possibly a concussion, despite pretending that he was fine. There was no way that King would sleep alone.

When King’s eyes met his, his heart gave a start, but he held his gaze. King looked uncertain, and Ram understood that he probably thought he was upset because King had mentioned his father at the waterfall and he didn’t know the real reason why he had walked away. Ram said good night to his friends and walked over to King who nodded, but didn't say anything. 

King showed him to the tent and then disappeared inside it and Ram wondered whether he should wait until he invited him inside or just follow him. He had never been uncertain like this, he realised. Somehow, he didn’t quite know how to be around King without second guessing everything anymore. Swallowing his doubt, he lowered himself to climb into the tent, and just in that moment, King stuck out his head. Ram stopped moving entirely, unsure what to expect. 

What he had not expected was an apology. King seemed truly anxious about having raised the issue with his father and risked upsetting him, and Ram wanted to tell him that he could bear anything, as long as King was there with him. But then he realised that it would sound cheesy and that he couldn’t quite say it in a way that didn’t sound like he was making fun of King. 

So, instead, he just told him that he knew that King had meant well. King seemed truly relieved, thanking him, and Ram felt sorry for worrying him all day. He should have told him earlier instead of just avoiding him. He was about to apologise, too, when King asked him to come into the tent. So he took off his flip flops and followed him inside. 

Lying down on their respective mats, Ram felt that they were too far away from each other. King had simply closed his eyes and drifted off, and Ram missed King’s bed fiercely. It was soft and comfortable and safe. This tent seemed too large, offering very little protection and comfort, with their friends’ snores filtering through the night and the noises of insects buzzing outside the tent. 

He turned away from King and tucked his arms close to his body. What had happened last night had been extraordinary and would not be repeated. Feeling a little sorry for himself and missing King’s palm against his own, he drifted off into a deep slumber. 

When he woke up, it was still the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure why he had woken up, because there were no extraordinary noises, but maybe King had been in pain and he had heard him? He turned over and his heart gave a painful start. King wasn’t in the tent with him. His bag was open and an empty pill bottle lay next to it. He must have run out and, instead of waking him up, he had gone outside. To do what? To ask someone else? To find Thara? 

He cursed himself for not having woken up. King didn’t know that he had packed more painkillers. He hadn’t told him. Ram left the tent and began looking for King. At first, he checked the tents of King’s friends and then he looked at the distribution bar, but that was deserted. Then he spotted the HQ hut and realised that they must have a first aid system in place, and that King would probably have sought help there. 

When he got there, he saw him sprawled out on the steps leading up to the hut and his stomach dropped. Not again, he thought. Please, King, just be okay. He rushed over to where he lay and felt panic rise in him when he lifted his head with a grunt at his touch, only to drop it again. He clearly wasn’t okay. 

Ram looked up at the hut, wondering why nobody had come out to help, and saw that someone had left a note with a phone number for emergencies, saying that they had left for a village nearby. He made a mental note of the phone number, because if King was seriously unwell, he would make sure to give those responsible hell for it. But then again, wasn't he responsible, too, having been asleep when King had been attacked the first time, and not being close to him when he had slipped in the pond? And then he hadn't woken up just now when King had left the tent either. It turned out that he wasn't all that good at looking after King. 

He bit down his anger at himself. Well, he couldn’t leave King on the steps like this. He was feverish and mosquitoes had already left a few bites on his skin. 

He pulled him up and onto his back, using the stairs for leverage, and then carried him back to the tent, where he carefully lowered him onto his mat. He made sure that he was breathing and that his pulse was stable and then all he could do was watch over him, his heart beating heavily. Even after what felt like an hour, he was still anxious about King lying there, unmoving and silent. He softly wiped his forehead with a wet towel, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. He didn’t dare touch him otherwise, though his entire body yearned to pull him close and just hold him. 

When King moved, his breath shaky and laboured, Ram felt that he, too, could breathe again for the first time since he had found the tent empty. 

King was conscious and lucid, which was all Ram could have hoped for. Whatever spell had come over him that had caused the collapse seemed to have gone. At least Ram hoped it had. When King told him that he believed that his wound had gotten infected after the accident in the pond, Ram bit back an “I told you so,” and instead asked him why he hadn’t told him that he wasn’t feeling well. 

“I did not want to bother you.”

King’s answer left him confused. Why did he think he would have bothered him? He knew that Ram was there to watch over him, didn’t he? Hadn’t he understood yet that he was by his side so he could help him when he needed it? That he would stay awake all night to watch over him if necessary. 

He watched as King swallowed the painkiller he gave him, clearly still in pain. Once more, he had to force himself to sit still. But then King began shivering and hugged his arms close to his chest and Ram couldn’t stand it any longer. He lay down close to him, conscious of keeping his hips as far away from King as possible, just in case his body misread the situation again, and covered King’s naked arms with his own, hoping that the sweatshirt he wore would offer him a little bit of warmth, even though he knew it wasn’t the same as a blanket. 

He had hoped that King would go back to sleep and that maybe, if he was still cold, that he he might seek out his body heat on his own, like had last night. But instead, King turned his head to look at him, his jaw working, as if he was chewing on words he didn’t know how to say. 

Ram watched him, his heart beating heavily, being so close to King. He wished the circumstances were different and King wasn’t hurt and that they were simply lying in this tent, holding each other, about to close that final distance …

King finally plucked Ram’s arm from his chest, telling him that he was fine and that Ram could go back to sleep. Ram felt entirely wrong footed. He clearly wasn’t feeling better yet, as his body had trembled under his arm, and yet he pushed him away. Somehow, he had overstepped a mark he hadn’t seen, and he wasn’t sure how to make it right again. 

He lay down, hoping that in the morning things would be different again. He was an emotional wreck, having been so worried about King. And maybe his touch had hurt King. He knew that sometimes, when he had been feverish, touch had been painful. But why hadn’t he just said so?

“Hey Ning,” King spoke again, but he kept his eyes closed. “You don’t have to look after me tomorrow. You should be with your friends. I’ll be with my friends, too. You came with your friends, so you should spend time with them, too.”

With every word, Ram felt his heart break a little more. Had he overdone it? Did King feel overwhelmed by his concern? He should be with his friends? Didn’t King know that Ram never felt more understood than with King? That he felt he could tell him things that he hadn’t even dared to tell his best friend? Sure, they had initially planned to spend time together as a group of friends, but hadn’t their respective group of friends become friends with each other after Bohn and Duen had started dating? Did King not see him as a friend? And if not, what was he to him? A rescue project? Had he tried to get a silent man to speak to him and succeeded, and now the fascination was fading? 

No, King was too kind to think along those lines. He had extended his hand when he had been in desperate need of help, and he had stuck with it. That Ram had helped him now might have seemed like a fair trade between them, just as Ram had always insisted on returning any favour of King’s. And now that he had carried him back to the tent and made sure that he was okay, they were even? Was that it? Would they go back to King helping him and his friends with their homework once they returned to campus? Would they only be alone together when Ram forced a dinner on him in thanks? 

King had planned to stay with his grandmother for ten days after this trip, and he had told Ram that he was welcome to stay at his condo, and he had been grateful. But he would be alone, and he would have been able to bear that if King would have continued to text a lot and send him photos and happy meandering voice messages, and Ram would try to keep his plants alive and send progress reports, but King’s words just now told him that maybe he would sit in the condo by himself, surrounded by silence, missing King’s presence while having to deal with the heartbreak over his father’s betrayal, too. 

When he couldn’t hold back the tears, he turned onto his side and away from King.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooops, this turned out longer than I thought it would, exactly 5k words. So, here it is, the final chapter in this series.  
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and a gigantic thank you to everyone who commented <3 Your words are loved!

When Ram woke up, King was still asleep. His heart was heavy as he quietly left the tent and took a shower, running into Thara, who seemed to be the only person already up apart from him. He spent too much time standing under the spray of the water, thinking about last night. The elation that had come with finding King cuddled up to him had been replaced by dread. 

Had he lost him just when he thought he had found a friend for life? He tried to remember if there had been any warning signs that he was overstepping a boundary he hadn’t noticed, but he couldn’t think of anything. The wreath had made King happy, and after King had apologised for bringing up his father, things had seemed okay again. 

Maybe it had been the fever speaking. That was the hope he clung to as he finally switched off the water and towelled himself off. When he stepped out of the cubicle, King just entered the wash rooms. When he saw Ram, he sighed and then simply walked past him without so much as a good morning.

“How is your head?” Ram asked, fighting the urge to stop him physically and demand an explanation. 

King cocked his head but didn’t turn around. “Fine,” he finally said and locked himself in a cubicle. Ram changed into his clothes and decided to give King some time. When he remembered that King would leave for his grandmother’s after the trip, he grew even sadder. 

Maybe breakfast would help! He went to the distribution desk and got himself some rice and fried vegetables. He found Ting Ting and Duen sitting on a blanket, sharing a cup of tea. They both looked first at him and then behind him, clearly expecting him to come with King in tow. Their expressions said everything when they realised he was alone. He joined them wordlessly and shrugged off Ting Ting’s hand that patted his shoulder gently. Duen seemed upset, and Ram guessed that Bohn’s conspicuous absence had to do with it. Oh the irony that he had grown jealous of their relationship. 

They didn’t have much time to eat before they were called together to leave for the arid site where they would plant trees. On the way there, all Ram could think about was how much King loved plants and how this trip must have been too important for him to miss, despite his head injury. He hadn’t really understood why King had insisted on going, especially since he could have just taken a train to his grandmother’s after he had healed, but as they climbed up the mountain in the morning heat, he knew that _this_ was what had driven him to come, despite it all. 

Since he couldn’t see him ahead, he knew that he must have been walking behind him, and more than once, he was tempted to turn around and look for him, but each time, he remembered his words from last night. 

Maybe he just missed spending time with his friends. Carrying Ram’s emotional load might just have been overwhelming and maybe he wanted Ram to share his feelings with his friends, too, so that they wouldn’t all rest on King’s shoulders. And maybe he just wanted to joke around with Bohn without having Ram constantly scowl at him. No, King’s words hadn’t been driven by fever, but by the need for things to be normal again. 

Duen gave him a questioning look and he realised that he had been sighing a lot. He tried to think of something else until they finally got to the plateau where they each grabbed a shovel and a small tree and found a place to start digging holes into which to place the saplings. 

Duen seemed to enjoy the exercise immensely and his mood improved with every shovel of dust he chucked behind him, but just as Ram felt his own mood improve, he noticed King, hacking away at a particularly dry bit of earth. From what he could tell, he was still in pain, but pushing through it. 

All he wanted to do was to lead him to a tree stump, make him sit down and drink some water, and take it easy. But King scraped and hacked and cursed silently and Ram knew he had chosen that particular spot on purpose. His tree would do the most good on that particular patch of earth. In a few years, the roots would pull up water from below and enable grass and other plants to take root closer to the surface. King also didn’t give up easily, as he knew from his own experience with him. 

When King’s eyes wandered and met his, he realised he was staring and forced himself to look away. King was clearly hurting, but he had explicitly asked him not to watch over him, and he didn’t want to upset him. Next to him, Phu continued digging while Duen walked away suddenly, but Ram didn’t dare look up again in case King might still be watching. But eventually he couldn’t stop himself from checking and just then, King, who had been talking with Bohn, glanced at him. 

Despite the distance, Ram felt a small spark at their eye contact and he hated how much it affected him and how much he had come to love that particular sensation. Boundaries had been set and he needed to adapt to them. It didn’t matter what meeting King’s eyes did to him when King clearly wanted distance. 

Well, King would know when to take a break, wouldn’t he? And if something happened, he would be close enough to help after all. He kept repeating the thoughts all through the day, and with each hour in which King still stood upright and planted trees, his worries grew less and less pronounced. Once they had finished and returned to camp, he walked behind him and was glad to see him chat to Bohn, Boss and Mek, the sound of his voice filtering through the chatter of the others every now and then. 

But then the message spread that Duen had gone missing and Ram’s thoughts were wiped blank. If he had gotten lost in the sprawling forests, it would be very difficult to find him. And all the while Bohn had been oblivious. So much for being Duen’s boyfriend. 

Ram wanted to hate him, but in the end, he hadn’t checked on Duen either after their lunch break, so he was as much to blame as Bohn. Rangers were informed and they quickly found a group who would go search for Duen while the others stayed at the camp, waiting there in case he showed up. King had volunteered, too, but he stayed close to Bohn and didn’t talk much. 

Once they returned to camp and Tee told them that Bohn had just run away, Ram felt his antipathy for Bohn melt a little. It was intensely stupid to search for him alone and in darkness, but he knew deep in his heart that if King had gone missing, he would have done the same. 

Their eyes met briefly, but this time King nodded at him encouragingly. This was larger than the two of them and King must have known how worried Ram was about Duen. 

Thankfully, a few moments later, Bohn and Duen showed up, holding hands and smiling like the two idiots they were. Ram wanted to punch and hug them both, he felt so relieved. It was also obvious that something had happened between them that Duen was clearly not ready to talk about, but judging from his radiant smile, he seemed truly happy. 

And then everyone got dinner and eventually returned to their tents. He saw King leave, too, but when Ram came to King’s tent, he found it empty. His bag was still there, but King was neither in the washroom nor could he find him anywhere else. 

He lay down, trying not to think about anything in particular, and finally fell asleep imagining the smile on King’s face when he would return to the planting site in a couple of months and find his trees growing. 

He must have slept deeply because when he woke up, he realised that King had slept in the tent with him, but that he was already up again. His bag lay in a different spot and his t-shirt and trousers that he had worn during yesterday lay next to his mat. 

After breakfast they started their hike to a beautiful plateau on a different mountain nearby. This time, King walked in front of him, and several times, he turned around and looked at him. Ram tried to tell himself that King was just making sure that everyone in the group was alright, but their eyes met every time, and every time, Ram wanted to walk faster and catch up with him. He missed his voice. He missed his constant talking and his amusement at the smallest and strangest things and he missed him calling him Ning and he missed the way he pushed his hair back without ever succeeding in brushing it away from his face. 

When they reached the plateau, everyone started taking photos, and for a while, everything was alright. Duen and Bohn were stupidly adorable together and Ting Ting got everyone together for small group photos and he could watch King take hilariously badly ones with Tee, who seemed to enjoy trying to look as silly and unenthusiastic as possible while King copied him. 

When they called everyone together for a group photo, Ram regretted that he was so far away from King. Everyone seemed happy and relaxed, but he wished he could stand next to King and touch his back or put his arm around his shoulders, if only for the few moments it would take to take the photo. Or if he stood in front of him, he could lean back a little, knowing King would support his weight for the time being.

He looked up, finding him a few feet away, leaning on Phu’s shoulder, which should have been his own shoulder, really. And then the first photos were taken and King smiled, but somehow it didn’t seem genuine. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. And then suddenly, King looked back at him and Ram didn’t know what to do. His thoughts must have been so easy to read on his face then that, if he looked away now, King would know something was wrong. So he just stayed as he was, frozen, holding his gaze while trying not to think of what King might think in that moment. 

When the photos were taken, everyone scattered around again, and Ram moved away, too, feeling a little light headed from crouching for so long and getting up too quickly. And maybe, just maybe, from realising that he loved King and that what he felt was grief for something that would never happen.

The later it got, the more heartbroken he felt, but he simply stayed away from the group, sitting by the lake while the others were still posing for pictures or sat around and chatted. Ram missed his dogs and wished he could have taken them. He would be able to talk to them and have a proper excuse to walk away from the others. 

He continued to throw pebbles into the lake, watching the waves that spread out from the point of impact on the surface, drawing ever wider circles. For a while, it helped him to calm down, but then he began thinking that the reaction the pebbles caused was always the same. Nothing interrupted the flow and the waves spread out and out until they became invisible. It reminded him of the first few times King had come to talk to him. Ram had never made the first move, but had gotten used to King finding him, chatting to him, trying to get him to talk, throwing pebble after pebble, and Ram had responded in the same way every time. He had returned favours and he had sometimes spoken, but he had never approached King and asked him to do something with him. He had never asked him for help if King hadn’t offered first. 

Maybe, after all those pebbles, he had become bored with his reaction. The novelty had worn off and now that King was hurt, his mind was elsewhere. 

Ram sighed in frustration and threw a handful of pebbles into the water, watching their circular waves smoothly run into each other and spread out. A loud splash made him look around. A second splash followed and he saw King, somewhat obscured by long grass, hurl rocks into the lake. His expression was tense and from the way he threw those rocks, he seemed angry. 

Ram’s immediate instinct was to go and silently ask him to share his thoughts, but he knew he wouldn’t help but make it worse. He just wished he understood why. 

He looked out onto the surface of the lake again, just as the fading waves of his own throw were interrupted by the waves King’s larger rocks had sent off. They moved the water enough to create tiny waves on the shore, which made the water rise and fall a little, wetting the tips of his sneakers. 

When he looked up again, he found King looking at him. Ram couldn’t help but sigh, trying to read in his face what was wrong with him. Should he offer him another paracetamol? Was he annoyed by the pain that kept him from fully enjoying the trip? He inhaled deeply and then tried to smile at King, hoping he looked encouraging. But King turned away abruptly and his smile turned into a grimace. 

The urge to find a rock that he could barely lift and throw it as far as he could became overwhelming. Not being able to go boxing was posing a problem, because he had no outlet for his own frustration and sadness. 

He wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his forehead on his arms, hiding from the world. His friends woke him when they were setting off to hike back down the mountain, and he explained that the wind had carried dust across the lake earlier when they asked why his eyes were reddened. He could tell that Ting Ting and Tang did not believe a word he said.

Ram wasn’t sure how they got down from the mountain, but after he had had dinner and several cups of tea, he felt much better than he had on top of the mountain. And then Tee proposed the card game with the stakes being his own spiked whisky. He knew it was horribly strong and that whoever played poorly would end up with a gigantic headache the next morning, but he was good at cards and might actually enjoy winning against his friends. When King joined the table, choosing to sit between Tee and Mek, even though there was a lot of space next to thim, his protective instincts went through the roof. King was in no state to drink, but who was he to tell him that? 

And then Ting Ting, Phu and Tang joined, too, and he knew that at least Ting Ting would drink until she dropped, so he needed to watch her, too. 

It did not take long for the game to become very silly, with almost all of them drinking in turns, but Mek, Tee and Ram were by far the best players and only drank a couple of shots each. The alcohol made it easier for Ram to look up from his cards every now and then and steal glances at King. 

King hadn’t been bad, but three shots sufficed to make him loose track of the game, resulting in a fourth one, which made him quit the game. He slouched over the camping table, watching the game through hooded eyes before he eventually closed them. Everyone else followed his example after a while. When only Tee and Ram were left in the game, Ram almost longed for one last shot. He knew it would make getting King back to the tent very difficult, but at least he would be able to fall asleep in a haze, without being able to form any clear thoughts. 

When Tee showed his cards, he knew he had won the game. He put down his cards and was surprised that Ting Ting seemed aware enough to find an elaborate explanation as to why she should be the one drinking that final shot and not Tee. 

And then the party was suddenly over. Phu and Tang helped Ting Ting get up and Ram was glad that he didn’t have to be the one getting her back to the tent, and Mek pulled up Boss, who was unable to stand on his own, having lost the first few rounds. 

Ram knew that Tee expected him to take care of King, but he wasn’t sure whether King thought the same. The fact that he hadn’t said a word to him during the game was grating. Nevertheless, he finally crawled around the table and shook him gently. 

King’s reaction was adorable and Ram felt his heart melt a little bit. “Don’t touch me, I want to sleep here,” he complained, brushing his hand away from his shoulder. 

He repeated the action, hoping that King would at least lift his head this time. When he did, Ram wished he hadn’t hoped for it. As soon as King realised that Ram had been the one trying to wake him up, he became defensive. When he had said that Ram did not need to take care of him anymore, it had been one thing, but now he right out told him to leave him alone, and that hurt more than anything. 

He bit back the pain, knowing that King was drunk and tired and probably still hurting, and that he couldn’t possibly stay out here all night. So he pulled him up, despite his protest, hating how limp King’s body was. He wished he had told him to take it easy with the alcohol instead of watching him get drunk. He seemed weak and vulnerable in his arms when he was usually so energetic and full of life and gentle and kind. 

That he managed to get him back into their tent seemed miraculous, but King seemed to come to his senses somewhat once they were inside. Ram was shocked by how loud and determined King’s voice was when he told him to let him go and tried to push him away. Despite everything inside of him screaming to leave the tent and not look back, he carefully lowered King onto his knees and tried to stabilize him. A moment later, King pushed him away once more, with more strength and determination than the first time. “I told you not to bother me!” He seemed properly angry, and Ram couldn’t make sense of it. 

He knew that if he didn’t ask now, he would never find the courage again. He tried to keep his voice calm, not daring to speak in a whole sentence, because he knew he might not make it to the end of it. “Why?”

King looked at him in a way that he only knew from the fights he had been in – the ones outside of the boxing ring and without rules. King looked dangerous, despite or maybe because of his drunken state. “There’s no why!” He spat. “You can leave!”

Something in Ram snapped. Maybe it was King’s aggression or the underlying pain that so clearly shone through his words. Or maybe it was that he was asking him to leave. Not just leave him be for a time, but leave. And that was something he couldn’t explain away. 

He did the opposite of what King had asked and sat up, stubborn determination giving him strength, but his voice shook anyway. “No! I won’t leave until you tell me why?” 

King glared at him, his expression hard. He looked like he had meant every word he had said. 

“I told you to leave!” he threw his arm out towards the entrance of the tent, seemingly having fully regained his orientation. Maybe that was a good thing, despite everything else. Ram knew he was clinging to this tiny fragment of positive thinking in order not to start crying right there and then. He felt everything slipping away from him. His safe haven, gone entirely. The person he had learned to trust the most, suddenly someone whom he couldn’t trust at all. 

“You annoy me!” King was shouting now, and he pushed him, as if that might make him move. Ram sat there, frozen to the spot. King had never once raised his hand to anyone since he had first met him. 

King was breathing hard, staring at him still, and all Ram could think of was that King was clearly in pain and somehow he was the reason for that pain and he had no idea how to make it right. 

“Why?” he tried again, promising himself that it would be the last time he would ask. King looked ready to punch him. 

“It tortures me! I feel tortured, you know?” King’s voice had lost some of its strength and Ram realised that he was finally starting to answer his question. 

“Because of me?” he asked, still not understanding how it was possible that he was causing him so much pain when he hadn’t done anything different, really, except for being a little more attentive after King’s injury. But he still drew a blank when he tried to think of any moment when he had done something that had upset King so much. 

King stared at him as if he should know the answer. As if he couldn’t believe that he didn’t. “Yes!” he started, and something in his expression cleared. He brushed his hair back, like he had done a million times, and Ram felt both relief and shock at his answer. 

“Because you make me feel good!” King continued, his voice much more gentle all of the sudden and Ram was sure the tent was suddenly sliding away from underneath him. “That’s why it’s torturing me,” King continued. “Do you know how hard I have to hold myself back every time I am near you? It tortures me, you know?”

 _What?_ Ram stared at King, not at all sure whether what he had just heard was real. Nothing made sense anymore. How could King give words exactly to what he himself felt so keenly? How was that possible? How was King the one making that claim while Ram’s heart was beating twice its usual pace with fear of losing him. 

He realised he should have said something, anything, in response when King’s voice rose again, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even blink. 

“That’s why I need you to be far away from me! So I don’t feel all this pain inside!” King shouted. Very slowly, Ram allowed himself to realise what King was telling him. He wasn’t sure when he had last taken a breath, but it somehow seemed impossible to inhale – the magnitude of King’s words was too great. 

“That’s the reason. Now I told you! Are you happy?” King grew angrier with every passing second, but Ram still couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk. 

“Are you happy now?” King repeated, shouting again, and this time he pushed him so hard that Ram lost his balance and fell back, the air pressed out of his lungs. He was surprised by the strength of the push and he realised that King’s anger must have sobered him up. 

But none of it mattered. None of it. He still felt the dull pain of King’s hand on his heart and a part of him hoped that it would never go away again. Was is truly possible that King returned his feelings? That he had hid them from him, just as he had tried to hide his own? Was it possible that he suffered even more? That he was unable to hide them anymore and that this was why he had asked Ram to stay away? He didn’t consciously sit up again, but somehow he found himself face to face with King again, and for a second he feared that he would punch him after all. 

Oh. 

He was stunned when King grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a violent kiss. Ram had imagined kissing him so often, but he hadn’t been prepared for the actual eventuality. And all he had done during the last two days was try to live with the certain knowledge that he never would have the joy and privilege. 

But now his mind went back to the many moments when King had been close to him. The moments when he had felt a magnetic pull towards him. The moment when they had sat next to each other on a bench and King had explained an exercise to him and he had looked up and King’s face had been a mere inch away from his own. The moment when King had plucked his hands from the bike’s seat and placed them against his waist. The way he had stopped moving when Ram’s thumbs had stroked his back. The night he had offered him shelter in his home despite his phobia of dogs without Ram having to say a word and the way he had comforted him after he had broken down in his condo. The fact that he had gotten him the Venus flytrap just because Ram had shown an interest in the plants and how surprised he had been when he had taken it with him after running away from home. The way he had lain down next to him in the park, so close, and told him that his pain would eventually pass. The night after he had gotten the stitches for his head injury and touched Ram’s tattoo so unbelievably gently. And the moment he had woken up to find him cuddled up to him. The moment when he had been flustered when Ram had made that ambiguous statement to him on the bus. The compliment by the water fall. The way he had squeezed his leg. The way he had brushed off his arm when he had tried to warm him up two nights ago, unable to be so close to him all the while Ram wanted nothing more than to be closer. The way their eyes had met again and again, despite Ram’s attempts to not look at him. The way he had looked at him when they had taken the group photo earlier. 

He had been so unbelievably stupid. 

King’s lips were pressed against his too hard to be enjoyable, but with pure and heart-breaking desperation. And Ram realised that King still had no idea how he felt. His eyes were closed, but his hands found King’s cheeks as if they had been made to touch him. His fingertips pushed into his hair and settled on the soft skin on the nape of his neck while his thumbs stroked his face, and he pulled away just a bit, just enough to feel the softness of King’s lips that he had so longed to feel against his own. 

For a moment, King pulled back, pressing their foreheads together, and a sob escaped him. Ram knew that if there was ever a time to show King how he felt, it was now. He was so relieved when King followed him into another kiss that he felt tears spill over. After a few seconds, when they both had come to terms with the fact that they were indeed kissing each other and that neither of them would punch the other for it, Ram deepened the kiss, allowing himself to do what he had yearned to do all this time. And King melted against him, moving a little closer and pushing his hands into Ram’s hair. 

Ram shuddered, and then moaned when King fisted at the sweatshirt he was wearing - the sweatshirt King had lent him. The noise made King pull back and Ram regretted allowing himself to be vocal just then, of all times, but King simply stared at him in amazement, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening and Ram couldn’t blame him. 

When King loosened his grasp on his sweatshirt to wipe away the tears on his cheeks, Ram finally allowed himself to exhale the tension he still held inside of him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, kissing King again, quickly. 

King nodded and then closed his eyes, sagging a little. 

“I’m sorry,” Ram whispered. “I never meant for you to be in pain. I’m so sorry!”

“Can I have some water?” King asked timidly, and Ram immediately fished his own water bottle from the corner of the tent. King nodded his thanks and drank deeply before he handed the bottle back. “I’m drunk,” he noted, biting his lip. 

Ram nodded. 

“I don’t want you to leave me alone,” King said, looking tiredly at Ram. 

“I’m glad,” Ram smiled and King smiled back at first, before his expression crumbled. Ram hadn’t realised how much it would affect him to see King cry, but he was unbelievably glad that he could simply pull him into his arms and carefully lower them down onto the mats. King calmed down after a while, but he stayed where he was, in Ram’s arms. 

Ram gently rubbed his back and eventually kissed his forehead. “Sleep well, King,” he whispered and closed his eyes. 

He was just about to drift off when he remembered King asking him to translate the lyrics to “Killing me Softly.” He fell asleep with a smile on his face, being entirely certain that King knew the meaning of every single word of that song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for those who have not yet seen the behind the scenes kiss/unedited version of the kiss, please enjoy: https://twitter.com/romantictomete/status/1283737780414111751?s=20


End file.
